Broken Promises
by J-James
Summary: COMPLETED--Frank is blackmailed into rejoining the CIA for "one more mission". A mission that will force him to break promises he made to himself and to the ones he loves the most. After all is said and done, will Frank be able to find redemption?
1. A naughty, naughty boy!

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Broken Promises

By J-James

Chapter One

This story is rated R

The characters of Frank Donovan, Jake Shaw, Alex Cross, Monica Davis and Cody Forrester are the property of Shane Salerno, Don Winslow and NBC Entertainment. No copyright infringement intended. All other characters are the property of the author.

This story is a sequel of sorts to "Revelations". It isn't necessary to have read that story to follow along with this one. However, it may be helpful to know that Frank is no longer with the Chicago undercover unit, but now is an instructor at the FBI training facility in Quantico, Virginia. He's married and has two small children. Other than that, this is an entirely new tale and takes up about a year after the last one ended. 

A car pulled to the curb of a relatively deserted residential street. The occupant didn't exit the vehicle immediately, but instead took a few moments to admire his surroundings. The houses were fairly large, well kept and spaced far enough apart to allow for some real privacy between neighbors. _That may come in handy,_ he thought to himself. After a another brief look around, he finally slid out of the automobile and approached one of those houses. As he walked up the drive, he tried to assess if anyone was home. No cars were visible, so he was unsure.

Instead of heading to the front door, he changed direction and skirted his way around the side of the building, crouching down so as not to be seen from any of the windows. Once he came into view of the backyard, he froze hearing movement. Plastering himself up against the side of the building, he carefully peeked around the corner.

He saw a woman hanging laundry on a clothesline, humming casually to herself. She seemed oblivious to his presence, and he smirked evilly at that. _This is going to be easier than I thought. _From his partially hidden vantage point, he continued to watch her, admiring the decidedly feminine curves of her body, the long shapely legs, and her freely flowing blonde hair. As he was lost in his lustful appraisal of her, he could feel his body tightening in anticipation of what was to come. 

She turned suddenly, picked up her laundry basket and started toward the back porch. At her first movement, he pulled back quickly. Hoping that she had not seen him. When he heard her approach the house, still humming away, he knew that he'd slipped detection. He heard her soft footfalls on the wooden porch and the opening and closing of the screen door. A smile crept on his face once more when he heard her turn on the radio, knowing that the music would do much to mask any sound he may make trying to gain entrance to the residence.

Sighing to himself, he knew that his hardest task was still ahead of him. How to get into the house undetected. He easily scaled the side of the porch maneuvering over the railing. He glanced at the screen door and considered whether to enter that way or through one of the partially open windows. After a few seconds, he decided to go with the latter, somehow sensing that she may still be in the vicinity of the open doorway. 

He carefully peered through the window and saw no one and sensed no movement. He then eased the pane of glass open a little further and levered his leg through the opening. Once he was straddling the sill, it was just a matter of quietly manipulating his tall frame through the rest of the way. Now sweating slightly from the careful exertion, he glanced around the room and into the partially visible hallway. He let his senses fly, and tried to hone in on where she was. 

Carefully he crept through the house, glancing left and right. The element of surprise was an absolute necessity, and he had every intention of catching her off guard. Slowly, inch by inch, he made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen. He could hear her once more, still humming, totally unaware as to what would happen to her next. 

He saw her then as he edged around the corner. She had her back to him as she cheerfully folded the laundry from the basket. Inch by painstaking inch, he crept up behind her, and then when he was no more than a foot or two away, he launched into action.

One hand went directly over her mouth, the other around her slim waist, pulling her toward him, pinning her between his hard body and the kitchen counter.

She tried her best to scream, but the hand across her mouth allowed no sound to filter through. Both of her hands came up and tried to pry away his fingers but to no avail. Her struggle became almost frantic, but she froze instantly when she heard his voice so very close to her ear.

"Don't fight….it'll only make things worse," he told her in a low almost seductive voice. She stilled her movements and waited for his next move, her breath now coming in shallow gasps.

"Are you going to behave?" he asked her quietly. "Or am I going to be forced to take drastic measures."

She gave no answer and couldn't even if she wanted to, since her mouth was still effectively covered by his large hand.

"Now…..I'm going to slowly take my hand away from your mouth, but know this….if you try anything, I'll make you regret it," he told her in a menacing voice that sent shivers up her spine. She could only imagine what the consequences would be.

He did as he said he would, moving his hand away very slowly, ready to clamp it back in place if he sensed she would scream, but she didn't. Instead she seemed ominously still, as if she were just waiting to see what her fate would be.

Once more he pulled her closer to him, maneuvering his hands to capture both of her wrists. "Now that's a good girl," he whispered in her ear, so close that she could barely feel the movement of his lips against her earlobe. "You're a beautiful woman…..such a beautiful woman. Has anyone ever told you that?" he asked as he pressed her backside against his crotch. Even through their clothing she could feel his obvious erection, and she swallowed hard knowing that she was at his mercy.

"I want to see those beautiful eyes," he told her. "Turn and face me, but do it slowly. Remember…..I control this situation. If you don't do exactly as I say, you'll suffer the consequences. Do you understand?"

She nodded her head quickly and then proceeded to do as instructed. Bit by bit, she turned around within the circle of his arms, and was soon face to face with her captor, but suddenly she did the unexpected. She ran.

As she turned around, he had taken a step back and had loosened his hold on her, and when he had least expected it, she'd suddenly slipped from his arms and bolted toward the doorway leading to the hallway.

"God damn it!" he muttered under his breath as he gave chase, having been momentarily been taken unaware. He'd let his desire blind him…trust her too much. He reached the hallway just in time to see her turn into one of the rooms further down. In a step or two he was right behind her.

There was another door leading onto the back porch, and she had her hand on the doorknob when she was suddenly seized from behind, the handle slipping from her grasp. He'd grabbed her around the waist and physically hauled her away from the door halting her progress. In the process he'd lifted her up, her feet dangling in the air and set her down, a bit forcibly, on the nearby bed. In an instant he had her pinned to the mattress, her hands captured in both of his own above her head, his hard body barring her from any hope of escape. For a few seconds, both were breathless and stared one at the other. 

"I told you that you would pay the consequences if you tried anything," he told her barely above a whisper, his lips just a hair's breadth away from hers.

"Please….." was all she was able to mutter, almost pleadingly.

He smirked at her plea. "Please what? Release you? I think not. You have to pay for what you've done," he said, his voice dark and ominous as he slowly lowered his head to the side of her neck, softly nibbling, tasting the tender flesh that he found there.

"Oh God," she said in a half moan whisper. Her breath had sped up and she was sure that her heart was beating uncontrollably in her chest as he continued the unhurried assault on her neck.

Slowly, he moved from her neck to her jaw line, coming ever closer to her soft lips. "Tell me what I want to hear," he commanded her.

"Wha…..what?" she asked suddenly unable to communicate a simple thought, as she stared back at him, noticing that his eyes had turned impossibly black from his apparent arousal.

"Tell me….tell me that you're mine. That you belong to me and no other," he explained as he finally assaulted her lips in a hard unbreakable kiss, his tongue plunging almost forcibly into her mouth. The kiss was controlling, possessive. After several minutes, he suddenly broke away and bent his head so that it rested against her shoulder. His breath was ragged, his blood raging through every part of his body. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to control his overwhelming physical response to her. He needed to calm down or it would all be over before it even began. 

When he thought he couldn't stand it anymore, he heard her quietly respond to him. "I'm yours……I'll always be yours."

He slowly raised his head and looked directly in her eyes. Releasing her hands he rested most of his weight on his elbows, his hands gently framing her face. "Do you have any idea…..any idea at all how much I love you?" he asked her, searching her eyes for the answer.

Raising her hands to run her fingers through his hair, she answered softly, "I know, Frank….I know." She kissed his forehead softly and then added, "Show me," as she placed a soft gentle kiss on his lips.

The moment for play was over. The mood had changed dramatically in the span of a mere second. The lustful romp was replaced with a tender, passionate exchange between two people who loved and cared about each other deeply.

"Laura……." he was barely able to whisper before he once again claimed her still moist lips. This time, however, the kiss was anything but possessive or nearly bruising. It was tender, sweet and utterly loving. 

Some time later, Laura awoke from a light doze and stretched like a cat in the afternoon sun. A smile curved her lips thinking about the delicious way that they'd spent the afternoon. She opened her eyes finally and saw Frank staring back at her, a self satisfied smile plastered to his sexy mouth.

"Well, hi there," she greeted him. "How long was I asleep?"

"Not long. 45 minutes, maybe an hour," he answered her as he ran the back of his hand gently up and down her bare arm. 

She looked around then and started to chuckle. "Look at this place," she told him. "It looks like World War III hit it." The blanket was lying half on and half off the bed. The comforter was tossed haphazardly on the floor along with all of their clothing. The nice clean sheets that she'd placed on the bed just hours ago……well, they were going to need cleaning again. And in the middle of it all, her husband was lying contentedly on his back, one arm tucked under his head and not a sheet or a stitch of clothing covering his gloriously naked form.

He noticed her perusal and just had to ask with a sexy smirk in his voice, "Does everything meet with your approval?"

She looked him over once again just for good measure and answered, "Oh….I'd say that's a definite yes." She then leaned closer and gave him a soft kiss while running a hand lazily down his washboard abs. She smiled sexily when she got the response she was looking for. His breath hitched slightly and increased dramatically the closer she got to her destination, but she had other plans at the moment. Paybacks could be hell.

Her lips left his and began to work their way down his neck, nibbling, kissing and licking along the way. Her hand meanwhile was touching him anywhere but where he wanted her to. It brushed his hip, his muscular thighs, traced the line of hair descending from his navel and even tangled briefly in the curly hair above his once again jutting manhood. Anywhere but _there_. And all the while, her mouth was working its magic on him. She paused briefly at each of his flat nipples, swirling her tongue around each until she elicited a moan from him. And onward her exploration continued. She could feel his breath coming in shallow gasps, his hands tangling in her hair but not impeding her progress. Lower still she went, her tongue dipping briefly into his belly button and she was rewarded with what sounded like a hiss escaping his lips. 

His whole body was tensing with each centimeter that she came closer to his now throbbing erection. When she began to trace that line of hair with her tongue, she swore that he'd stopped breathing and looked up briefly to see his eyes tightly shut and the muscles in his jaw working overtime. 

While his eyes were closed, two things happened. Her hand finally reached its destination grasping him firmly at the base of his shaft while her tongue began its sensual dance around its head.

He nearly came off the bed with that, having been taken totally off guard. His hips thrust forward of their own accord and a loud moan escaped his lips. She smiled briefly and began to work him into a feverish frenzy. On and on she went, driving him closer and closer to his release only to ease off and wait until he'd regained some of his control, and once there, she would begin the onslaught anew. At one point, she could have sworn that some sort of vulgarities escaped his lips along with his ragged breaths. 

She continued her sensual assault and was rewarded when she finally heard him say, "Please, baby……." through tightly clenched teeth, begging for release. 

Suddenly she stopped what she was doing and rose from the bed. His eyes flew open and his head jerked forward to see what she was doing, only to see her still naked backside heading for the bedroom door.

"What the hell?" he managed to ask between panting breaths.

She turned back before leaving, a devious smile on her face and said, "_That's_ for scaring me half to death earlier. Do that again Donovan, and you don't get to touch me for a month." She then turned and left the room entirely. Frank stared at the open doorway disbelievingly, sure she would come back at any second to finish what she'd started. But when several minutes ticked by and Laura was nowhere to be seen, he picked up one of the pillows, buried his head in it and moaned as loudly as he could in frustration. 

Laura entered the kitchen area and silently thanked God that she was doing laundry when she had been so wonderfully interrupted. She fished a few pieces of her clothes from the laundry basket and shimmied into them. Looking through the back windows, she thanked God for one other thing….privacy hedges, or what a show the neighbors would have seen. 

From their bedroom down the hall, she heard her husband's muffled groan and giggled a bit, knowing that she'd make it up to him later. It was a cruel trick but then so was sneaking into your house and scaring your wife half to death. He'd never know how close she'd come to either peeing her pants or fighting back, which may have resulted in a nasty groin injury. _Ouch_!

Several minutes later, Frank joined her in the kitchen and she immediately noticed two things. The first……that he didn't look _entirely_ pissed at what she'd done to him, and second…….that he was wearing a pair of faded, heavily worn Levi's with the top button still undone…….and no shirt. _Oh damn! He's not playing fair! He knows I love those jeans on him! _

He just leaned against the wall for several seconds and stared at her. She glanced at him now and again, never really making eye contact. She went back to folding when she heard him move slowly in her direction. He came up behind her and rested both of his hands on the counter on either side of her. She tried her best to ignore his presence, but was failing miserably. Her hands had begun to shake slightly, a movement she attempted to mask by folding the socks more quickly.

"You…….you are an evil woman," he muttered to her as he tilted his head and began to run his lips and tongue up and down her exposed neck. She closed her eyes, stilled her hands and even tilted her own head to give him better access.

Through her fog filled brain, she somehow managed to mutter, "Frank…..we can't."

He chose to ignore her. Instead he brought his hands up and placed them both tenderly on her stomach. However, they didn't stay in that position for very long. One moved to her hip and traced its way down her leg and then forward, his fingers now brushing the inside of her thighs and moving agonizingly slowly northward, while the other worked its way under her t-shirt and began its own ascent.

Both reached their respective targets at the same time, causing Laura to grip the edge of the counter in front of her tightly and doing everything she could not to moan out loud. His right hand was now tenderly massaging her breast, his thumb caressing her swollen nipple, while his left hand had somehow managed to slip under the edge of her shorts and panties, finding her still moist folds hidden there. The dual assault was proving to be too much for her and her breath began to come in shallow gasps.

He'd intended to give her just as much as she'd given him, keeping her just this side of her orgasm and then denying her release, but the more he touched her…..the more he heard her breathy moans……the more aroused _he_ was becoming. _Ahhhh hell!_

His hands left there targets, eliciting a whimper from his now fully aroused wife, and moved to her hips. Before she knew what was happening, he was pulling her shorts and panties down almost forcibly. Once down around her ankles, she easily stepped out of them and kicked them away. While she did so she could hear his zipper coming down. She tried to turn around, but he stopped her, anchoring his hands to her hips while he bent her slightly at the waist and entered her unceremoniously. Both froze immediately, slight gasps escaping their lips.

Several seconds ticked by before Frank felt he had enough control to move without having it finish too soon. Slowly he withdrew and slowly he entered her, time and again, the friction slowly building, the intensity of his thrusts slowly increasing. Laura hung her head down, her hair obscuring her view and clung to the edge of the counter for all it was worth, her knuckles turning white from her exertion. 

Frank continued his assault, his eyes firmly shut, concentrating on nothing but the pleasure he was both giving and receiving. He moved his arm around her waist attempting to anchor her more firmly to him. He knew he was agonizingly close to his climax but wouldn't allow it to happen until he knew that she would join him, and he knew just how to make that happen. 

While his one arm secured her to him, his other hand was now free. He snaked it around her and found her swollen nub. She nearly bucked her hips against him as a result, a low whimper escaping her lips. He teased it unmercifully, and could feel her slick sheath tightening around him. A few more thrusts and she shattered in his arms, crying out for all of the neighbors to hear. He joined her seconds later, mixing his own grunts with hers. 

Slowly the two stopped moving, both trying desperately to regain control of themselves. Frank leaned against her slightly damp back, and had yet to retreat from her body. They stayed in that position for a few moments more, neither really in a hurry to break their intimate contact, but slowly Frank withdrew and stood straight up.

Laura felt almost cold after their joining ended, perhaps it was the slight breeze cooling her sweat covered body, or maybe it was just that she already missed having him inside of her. Whatever the reason, she too rose from her bent over position and turned to enter his embrace, resting her head against his muscular chest while his arms encircled her. Neither said anything for several minutes, instead they just basked in the glow of what they'd shared.

"Now that's a way to spend the afternoon," she said barely above a whisper. She could hear him chuckle, the deep sound reverberating through his chest pressed up against her ear.

"It certainly is," he answered back finally.

"By the way," she began, "what are you doing home so early?" 

He placed his hand under her chin and brought her face up to meet his. "I just thought I'd surprise my wife on the anniversary of our first date," he told her before placing a gentle, almost chaste kiss on her lips.

She smiled at him warmly. "You're a hopeless romantic. Do you know that? Everyone thinks of you as this intimidating, unbending, almost cold-hearted agent. If they only knew the real Frank Donovan."

He smiled at her in return. "Naaahh…….why ruin a great reputation like that. _This _Frank Donovan is only for you and no one else. You wouldn't want to share, now would you?"

"Hell no! I'd kick anyone's ass who even looked at you!" she told him in mock jealousy. "Heaven help the woman who'd ever attempt to lay a hand on you!"

"Exactly……now……come here. I don't think I'm done with you yet," he informed her, a slightly evil twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh dear lord……" was all she could manage to say before his mouth claimed hers once more.

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	2. An offer he couldn't refuse

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Broken Promises

Chapter Two

Frank shuffled through another seemingly endless pile of papers. There was a lot of things he enjoyed about teaching, but filling out evaluations wasn't one of them. He sighed tiredly as he sat at his desk, threw his pen down on the desktop, and stretched his arms over his head trying to relieve his tired muscles. He'd been at it for well over three hours and needed a break….badly. Rising from his chair, he sauntered over to the partially opened window and gazed out at the courtyard below him. He felt restless. Being cooped up in an office, (albeit a rather nicely furnished office) still wasn't his idea of how to spend a spring afternoon. At least when he was teaching, he was up and about.

He turned around, and again stared at the mountain of paperwork. The evaluations didn't need to be completed immediately, so he considered playing hooky for the afternoon. A slight smile graced his lips, remembering how he'd surprised Laura just a week ago. _She'll kill me if I ever try that again! _But the urge to return home was almost overpowering. After a moment or two more of consideration, he promptly closed the open window and headed for the door, fishing out his keys as he did so. Once in the hallway, he engaged the lock and he was off. In minutes he was outside, breathing in the fresh air and feeling 100% better. Slipping into his car seconds later, he was gone.

The closer he got to home, the better and better he felt. It wasn't that he hated his job, in fact he quite enjoyed it. And what he liked the best about it, was being able to slip away virtually whenever he wanted to. In the old days, he would sometimes be called away for days and sometimes weeks at a time. And even when he was in town, there were still numerous times when he wouldn't drag his tired body home until midnight or after. In the past year, he could count the number of times that he'd missed dinner on one hand. Life was pretty good. Although sometimes dull, he wouldn't trade it for anything. 

While maneuvering easily through traffic, a car in his rearview mirror, for some reason, caught his eye. He'd subconsciously been aware of the car from the second he'd left the Quantico facility, but only now really acknowledged its presence. Since this was a rather heavily traveled section of the highway, at first he'd thought nothing of it. But when the car seemed to be matching him lane change for lane change, he began to be concerned.

Not knowing if the situation was dangerous or not, Frank decided to take a detour, instead of leading what could be trouble, straight to his home. Taking the next exit, Frank noticed that the car did exactly the same. As he slowed at the end of the exit ramp, he tried to get a better look at the vehicle as it came a bit closer. It was black, a full size sedan, and had no front plates. He knew immediately that this was some sort of government car, but was perplexed as to why they'd be following him. So instead of continuing the chase, he turned into an relatively deserted shopping center parking lot and stopped, forcing the other vehicle to make its move. 

Once the car was in park, Frank exited his vehicle and waited to see what the other car would do, and much to his surprise, it entered the same lot and pulled up directly next to him. 

He could see the two "suits" inside and immediately wondered what the hell was going on. The two men exited their car and approached Frank.

"Agent Donovan?" the one man asked politely with a fake smile on his face.

"Yes," Frank answered tentatively, "what can I do for you? And more importantly, who are you and why were you following me?"

The man standing closest to him reached inside his suit jacket and retrieved something. He approached Frank and opened up his wallet to present his credentials. The minute Frank saw the man's badge, he began to frown furiously.

"CIA? What does the CIA want with me?" he asked suspiciously.

"If you wouldn't mind coming with us for just a short while, I'm sure all of your questions will be answered." 

"How about you answer the questions for me right here and right now?" Frank responded, now becoming more than a little annoyed.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Agent Donovan. We were just sent to retrieve you. The man that can answer those questions is waiting for you now."

"You can still answer one question…..why were you following me?"

"Like I said, we were sent to pick you up. We hadn't anticipated that you would leave your office earlier than usual. It was just luck that we saw your car leaving the lot just as we pulled up."

"What the hell do you mean that you hadn't anticipated that I would be leaving earlier than usual?" Frank asked with a thunderous look in his eyes. 

"Again, Agent Donovan, perhaps those questions would be best left to those that can answer them," the man responded, once again plastering that fake smile on his face.

Frank continued to glare at the two men before him, his arms now crossed over his chest. He was more than aware that these two knew nothing. They were lackeys….messengers and nothing more, but he still didn't want to play along. He was more than a bit disturbed by the idea that they were aware of his regular routine. _Have they been following me? And if so, for how long?_

The other man finally stepped forward. As the older of the two, he was probably the senior agent. He had an air about him that said that he'd had just about enough of the delays. "Agent Donovan……I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than to stand here all afternoon and talk to us. As my partner has informed you, we were sent to bring you to a meeting and nothing more. Now…..if you'll be so kind as to come with us, we'll be sure to have you on your way so you won't miss dinner in a few hours. Isn't that when your wife's expecting you home…..around 6:00 or so?" the man asked with a slightly malicious tone to his voice.

If Frank wasn't angered before, he certainly was now. So they _had_ been tailing him. And he was more than a little pissed off at the reference to his wife. _Have they been watching the house as well??_

"And if I refuse?" Frank asked just to see the man's reaction.

"I assure you, Agent Donovan, you wouldn't want to do that," the older man informed him coldly.

"Fine….." Frank finally relented, "but I'm driving myself. I'll follow you to wherever this so-called meeting will take place." He then gave both men a look that said 'don't fuck with me on this'.

Both men hesitated for a few seconds before the senior agent responded. "As you wish, but please remember….we know where to find you, if you should decide to ditch us along the way."

Frank glared at the man and ground out between clenched teeth, "Is that supposed to be a threat?"

"No…..just stating a fact," the other agent answered, appearing to be calm on the outside, but Frank noticed the vein in the man's forehead throbbing a little more noticeably than it had just minutes before.

Without further ceremony, Frank reentered his car and waited for the other vehicle to pull out before moving.

Once on their way, Frank's mind raced. _What can they want with me now, and why after so much time has gone by? _A dozen scenarios played in his head, none of which were good. They needed something. But what? He'd been out of the game for many years now, so why bring him in for a "meeting". Sighing to himself, he knew he'd have to wait awhile longer before he got the answers he needed.

He glanced at the cell phone lying on the passenger seat, and considered for a brief second calling Laura and telling her about what was happening. He grabbed the phone and stared at it. Should he call or not? Was it worth worrying her about it? Maybe this meeting was nothing. Maybe they just needed some information about a past mission. Something that couldn't be discussed over the phone. After a few more seconds of internal debate, he returned the phone to its former resting place. Perhaps this was all for nothing. At least that's what he truly hoped.

Twenty minutes later, the lead car ultimately pulled into an abandoned office complex. The buildings had had the unfortunate bad luck of being located near one of the seedier parts of DC. Of course it hadn't started out that way, but the ever-present urban sprawl had taken its toll. The vehicles finally halted in front of one of the buildings near the rear of the property. 

Frank exited his car and eyeballed the structure. To say that it was in bad need of repair, would have been a _major_ understatement. _They sure know how to pick 'em, don't they?_ His reverie, however, was soon disturbed by one of the agents asking him to follow them into the building. Sighing tiredly, he relented.

He was led to a room that had probably once served as a conference room of sorts. It was long, relatively narrow and even still had a dilapidated table situated at its center, and sitting rather patiently on one side of that table was the one man that Frank Donovan had hoped that he'd never see again.

"Frank…." the man began, rising from his chair, "it's so nice to see you again."

Frank didn't immediately respond, but instead took a few seconds to look the man over. In the decade or so since he'd last seen him, Raymond Marsh had changed very little. Frank knew the man's history….his reputation. He'd made a mark for himself early on in his career and shot up through the ranks at nearly meteoric speed, but suddenly his career advancement had stopped. He officially held the title of CIA supervisor, but everyone knew that he was the man that you went to to get things done. The kinds of things that no one else seemed to want to tackle. The fact that he was the one who held this meeting unsettled Frank quite a bit.

"Raymond," Frank finally responded his eyes narrowed in immediate distrust. "Why am I here?"

The older man smiled. "Always to the point, eh, Frank?"

Frank chose not to respond, but just continued to stare at the other man.

Raymond then motioned for the other two agents to leave them alone, which they did. Frank could here the outside door open and close.

"All right…..let's get down to business. You want to know why you're here? I'll tell you. We need you back. Plain and simple."

Frank didn't even hesitate for a split second before answering, "No." 

"I don't mean permanently, Frank. I'm talking about a temporary assignment."

"No."

"Let me explain….."

Before Raymond could go any further, Frank interrupted, "you can explain until you're blue in the face, but the bottom line is that I'm not coming back. Period."

Raymond sat back down at the table and steepled his hands in front of him. He was staring down at the table top, but soon elevated his eyes to look into Frank's, and what Frank saw there gave him the shivers. The man had eyes as cold as an Arctic wind. His reputation was one of getting things done at any cost…._any_ cost, and suddenly Frank was afraid, not for himself but for the people closest to him. Raymond Marsh was going to get what he wanted, one way or another, and that was when Frank knew that he was in big trouble. 

"Frank….." Raymond started again slowly, "we've known each other a long time. You know me…..you know that I'll eventually get you to relent, so let's stop the bullshit and get down to business." 

Frank knew that he spoke the truth, but something inside him just wouldn't give in that easily. "No," Frank answered again, although with a little less conviction.

Raymond had had enough. Once again rising from his chair, he leaned forward, his knuckles resting on the dingy table. "Now listen to me, Agent Donovan, and listen carefully. I have a mission to accomplish, and come hell or high water, _you are _going to be a part of that mission." Frank opened his mouth to protest further, but never got the chance before Marsh continued. "You see Frank….you're going to be a rather vital part of this job and as much as I hate to admit it, in this case, you're irreplaceable. Soooo….this is what I suggest you do……take a few seconds to think about it and then tell me what I want to hear. If not……well…..let's just say that I'd hate for anything to happen to that loving family you have."

Frank was almost speechless. His whole body shook from the rage building inside him, but _something_ held him back. _Something_ prevented him from launching himself across the room and snapping the man's neck like a dry twig. And that _something _was knowing that the man meant every single word he said. Frank knew that if he didn't accept this assignment, Marsh would have his family targeted. That's why they knew his schedule. They'd been following him and his family for some time now, just gathering information to ultimately get what they wanted…..and they wanted his cooperation.

With his jaw firmly clenched, Frank finally asked the question that he'd been dreading, "What do you want from me?"

"Luis Mendoza," was the curt reply that he received.

Frank couldn't look at the man any longer, so instead he turned away and walked toward one of the windows at the end of the room. He stared out the window blankly and instantaneously felt so much older than his 39 years. He raised his hands and placed them on either side of the window, closed his eyes and hung his head. _Luis Mendoza…..Jesus fucking Christ…..why him and why now?!?_

Sighing almost sadly, Frank asked, "Why? Isn't Mendoza supposed to be dead?" He heard Marsh move toward him, before responding .

"Frank…..you know us……we keep people like Luis _alive_ for a reason. We might need them one day, and that day, Frank, is today."

Finally opening his eyes, Frank turned his head and looked at the man standing at his shoulder. "I….I can't do it……not again," he said with a slightly pleading tone to his voice. 

Marsh put his hand on Frank's shoulder in an almost comforting gesture, and answered, "Agent Donovan, you're capable of _so_ many things. Would you care for me to make a list? How about I start with the names of every man you've gunned down in your long and illustrious career, hmmm?? Or how about all of the other sordid little activities that you were involved in while undercover. How many women did you fuck in order to get vital information, Frank? Or did you forget about all of that too??" 

Frank shrugged the man's hand off of his shoulder as if it were riddled with disease and walked to the opposite end of the room. He turned and glared at Raymond Marsh for all he was worth. Hate would have been an understatement for what he felt right now. Hate……rage….disgust….and panic. He was being forced back into a life that he swore he'd given up well over a decade ago, and what frightened him more than anything was knowing that there was no way out.

The two men continued to stare, one at the other. What seemed like minutes ticked by in the seemingly sweltering room, before Frank finally spoke again, "When?"

Marsh almost smiled at the question, knowing that the agent had finally seen reason. "Soon….maybe within a week. I don't expect the assignment to last too long. Maybe 3 or 4 months." 

Frank closed his eyes once more, and folded his arms across his chest. How was he going to explain this to Laura? To his children? And what guarantee did he have that it wouldn't take longer than that? He had none, he knew that as certainly as he knew that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning. Within one week, he would be forced to leave behind everything that he loved more than life itself, in order to do one more job for the CIA. If there was a hell, Frank Donovan was now on an express train there.

Opening his eyes once more, he looked at Marsh and said dejectedly, "Give me at least one week and I'll go."

Without a second's hesitation, Marsh responded, "Fine…you have one week. After that I expect you to report to me at CIA headquarters." 

Without another word, Frank turned to leave, needing to put space between himself and the man who was the closest thing to the devil incarnate in his eyes. He walked briskly down the hall and pushed the door open so hard it almost came off its rusty hinges. Once outside, Frank breathed in the fresh air as if it might be his last. He stood there for a few seconds before approaching his car and sliding behind the wheel, which he gripped tightly, trying to control the jumble of emotions inside of him. Then he swiftly started the engine and peeled out of the parking area just as quickly as the vehicle could go.

Once on the road, he allowed the seriousness of the situation to begin to sink in. He was being led back into a life that he hated…despised with every fiber of his being. He knew what it meant. Not only was he physically going to be away from his wife and children for an indeterminate amount of time, but he was going to have to do everything he could to forget them. At least temporarily. Where he was going, they couldn't follow. Not even in his thoughts and dreams. For those 3 or 4 months, it would be only him….only Luis Mendoza. 

Part of him wanted to turn the car around and tell Raymond Marsh to go back to hell and take his fucking assignment with him, but he knew he couldn't do that. If he did, Laura and the children would never be safe. He had to do this in order to keep them out of harm's way, and he knew that they'd never understand that. He groaned inwardly thinking about how he was going to tell Laura what he had to do. He could picture the scene perfectly. He'd promised her, pure and simple….promised her that he would never go back to that life. He could almost see the hurt in her eyes now. She'd feel betrayed and he wouldn't blame her….not one bit. 

He drove around for another hour or so, before finally heading for home. He'd been avoiding it, as if doing so would somehow make the inevitable go away. But in the end, he finally did, knowing that he only had a week, and he didn't want to waste one second more of it.

Pulling into the driveway, he took a few minutes to stare at his house. He wanted to memorize every detail, but he knew it would make little difference. In a week he would just force himself to forget it all. Sighing tiredly, he finally opened the door to the car and approached his home. 

Before he'd made it even five steps, the front door flew open, and his 4 year old daughter came bounding out. "Daddy!" she squealed with glee, rushing to meet him.

He couldn't help but smile in return, even though inside his heart was nearly breaking. She somehow launched herself into his arms and hugged him fiercely.

"Hey princess! How's my little girl today?" he asked her.

"I'm great! Look Daddy," she commanded, showing him something that she held possessively in her hand. He looked down at the paper carefully folded there. Taking it from her, he opened it up and gazed at the drawing that she'd undoubtedly made. In crayon, she'd depicted what he took to be himself, Laura and her brother Christopher. They stood in front of what he assumed was their house, but there was something he couldn't quite make out up in the sky. 

"It's wonderful! Did you draw this yourself?" he asked her. She nodded enthusiastically and proudly, her smile lighting up her face. "What's this, princess?" he asked pointing to the unknown part of the picture.

She took the picture from his hand and explained everything to him. "That's you and Mommy, and Christopher and that," she said now pointing to the part that Frank had been unable to make out, "that's Michael. He's an angel."

Frank looked back down at the picture and could just barely see the halo around the figure's head. She didn't remember her older brother. She'd been too young when he died of leukemia, but they'd told her about him, and he remembered Laura telling both of the children that Michael was in heaven now. Somehow, Alicia had remembered that. 

He couldn't say anything for a few seconds. Even now, after so many years, remembering Michael's death could still catch him off guard, and in this instance, it was accomplished by the innocent drawing of a child.

"It's beautiful, baby," he whispered as he kissed her temple lovingly. 

"Do you want to keep it?" she asked him, her eyes filled with the pride she felt at what she considered to be a huge accomplishment.

"I would love to," he answered her. "I'll put it in my wallet so I'll have it with me always, but will you do one thing for me first?" She looked at him expectantly. "Will you take the picture and draw yourself in there with the rest of us? That way I can have all of you with me."

"OK, Daddy," she answered him with another loving smile. She then took the picture from his hand, shimmied herself out of his arms and ran toward the house at full speed. He watched her go, and followed a few seconds later.

Upon entering his home, he could hear Laura yelling at Alicia to 'not run in the house', and he couldn't help but smile. He followed the sound of her voice, and found her in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove.

"Hey there, handsome," she greeted him, briefly glancing in his direction. "I was wondering when you were going to get home. How was your day?"

__

How was my day?? Well….first I was bored silly doing evaluations and then I was blackmailed into rejoining the CIA. How about you? He almost couldn't answer her at first, but he quickly found the strength to reply, "It was fine. How were things here?" he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She turned to him then, and really looked at him. There had been something in the sound of his voice that she didn't like, and in the instant she looked at him, she knew that something was wrong. "What is it?" she asked worriedly, her eyebrows knitting together in concern.

She knew him too well. That was the problem. After 11 years together, there was little he could hide from her, but now was not the time for explanations. "It's nothing." She opened her mouth to ask him again, but before she could, their two boisterous children entered the kitchen, hungry for their dinner.

Frank's attention immediately shifted to the kids. He played with them….joked with them…..and couldn't stop touching them, and the whole time Laura stood back and watched……and worried. Frank was a loving, caring father, but the attention he was giving them now, made her think that he was behaving like he hadn't seen them in a long time, not just since breakfast. Something most definitely was wrong. She could feel it.

So the evening went on. They had an enjoyable dinner. The children chattered endlessly about this and that and Frank absorbed every single word and syllable. And after the meal was over, he made it a point to spend as much time as he could with each of them before bedtime rolled around. And through it all, Laura worried all the more. 

Later on, she quietly entered Alicia's room and saw something that she hadn't seen in a very long time. Frank was sitting in the rocking chair with Alicia asleep in his arms. From the doorway, she could have sworn she heard him talking to their sleeping daughter, but she couldn't be sure. She slipped from the room and returned to their own bedroom and waited for him.

Twenty more minutes passed before he came to her. He didn't say a word. He just approached her, took her hand, pulled her gently to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He didn't want to think about it….not tonight. He wanted just one more night before everything would change. He wanted one more night to be a part of his children's lives. He wanted one more night to make love to his wife without seeing the hurt in her eyes. 

She could feel his desperation as he held her. His arms were almost too tight, but she didn't complain. Whatever it was….whatever was bothering him, she wanted to help. 

"Frank?" she said softly.

"Sshhhh….not tonight. Please?" he implored, not lifting his head. She was truly scared now, but she gave in to his wishes, and just let him love her. 

One last night………

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	3. Explaining it all

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Three

Morning came entirely too soon to the Donovan household. Laura had spent most of the night wide awake and staring at the ceiling. Frank had made love to her so sweetly, so gently that it had almost broken her heart. After his release claimed him, he had briefly looked into her eyes and she could have sworn that she'd seen tears. That more than anything scared her to death. Whatever problem was plaguing him, it was something so much more than just some sort trouble…..it was hurting him, and she felt helpless. She'd agreed not to ask him about it until the morning, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she silently prayed that morning would never get come. 

It was after 7:30 before she opened her eyes, the pale sunlight filtering through the curtains of their bedroom. She knew without looking that Frank was no longer in bed beside her. After 11 years of marriage, a wife just knew those things. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand, and noticed that the alarm had been turned off. Frank. She knew he'd done it purposefully. Maybe he knew that she hadn't slept more than a couple of hours all night. Sitting up in their bed, the sheets pooling around her waist, she could just barely make out voices. Both of the children were usually up by 7:00, and it appeared as if Frank had taken care of their breakfast.

Rising from the bed, she reached for her robe and tied it around her waist. Then, taking a deep breath, she opened the door to their room and padded down the hallway. She could hear Christopher's voice. He was telling his father about a little league team that he wanted to join this coming summer. Frank asked him a few questions here and there, and then announced that he'd have to talk about it with mommy. Laura stopped in the doorway and snuck a peek before entering. Christopher was just finishing up his breakfast and Alicia was sitting on her daddy's lap while she finished up a drawing that she'd been working on. All in all, another typical day in their busy lives, but something didn't feel the same. A sense of dread clouded everything she heard or saw.

Frank looked up and saw Laura standing in the doorway and for a few seconds their eyes locked and everything else seemed to fade away. She couldn't quite read the expression in his eyes. She thought she saw……regret?……sadness?……all mixed with the love that she always saw there. He gave her a sad smile before returning his attention to Alicia's drawing.

"I know of two children who are going to be late for school if they don't get a move on," Laura finally interjected.

"We were being quiet," Alicia announced proudly. "Daddy said you were still sleeping."

"I was, baby, and that was very sweet of you," Laura returned with a smile of her own.

Christopher rose from his kitchen chair, and came over to give Laura a morning hug. She returned the gesture and whispered in his ear to go get his things together. He smiled and ran off to his room to do just that.

Once their son was out of the room, Laura turned to Frank and said, "I was hoping you'd wake me up earlier this morning so we could have that talk before you had to go to work."

"I'm not going to work today. I thought I'd run the kids to school and then come back here," he replied, his eyes never straying from Alicia's masterpiece. 

"Oh…..OK," she answered trying to sound as blasé as possible, and she knew she was failing miserably. She then turned away from him and poured herself a cup of coffee, her hands gripping the mug tightly.

"All right, princess. It's time to go. Grab your backpack and let's get this show on the road," Frank informed his daughter. She scrambled off his lap and dashed out of the kitchen to do as her father asked.

Frank rose from the table, and approached Laura. He leaned in, gave her a soft kiss on the cheek and told her, "I'll be back in about fifteen minutes." She nodded in reply, still not facing him, almost afraid to look in his eyes again.

After a few more minutes, Frank and the children were out the door after a round of 'I love yous' and 'be good todays'. And then Laura waited. Her eyes straying to the clock on the wall, counting down each second that passed before Frank's return.

A little more than twenty minutes later, Laura heard their SUV pull into the driveway. She took another deep breath and tried to mentally prepare herself for whatever he had to tell her.

Frank entered their house and found Laura still in the kitchen, almost in the exact same spot that he'd seen her last. The only thing that was different was the clothes she wore. 

The two faced each other and neither spoke for several moments. He, not being sure where to start and she, being afraid to ask. Laura couldn't stand the penetrating silence anymore and finally spoke up. "What's wrong?" As the words left her mouth she wanted to retract them immediately. Part of her wanted to know, the other part desperately didn't.

Frank sighed heavily and pulled out a chair to sit down. Resting his forearms on his knees, he looked down at his hands not knowing how to start. _Start at the beginning…it's the only way to explain it all. _"I was invited to a meeting yesterday after I left the office."

"What kind of meeting? And with who?" she asked as she crossed her arms in front of herself.

"Well…..maybe invited is too kind of a word. I wasn't more than 10 minutes from home when I noticed a car following me. I turned off the highway instead of coming straight here, just in case there was trouble. Anyway…..I pulled into a parking lot and waited for the car to follow me, which it did. Two agents got out of the car and asked me to accompany them to some sort of meeting. We exchanged a few words and I finally gave in." Frank leaned back in his chair and looked up at Laura. "I was led to some sort of abandoned office complex in DC, and that's where the meeting took place."

"And….," she prompted, her eyebrows furrowed.

"And…..I found out who the meeting was with."

"Who? Do I know this person?"

Sighing tiredly, Frank ran a hand through his hair before answering. "Raymond Marsh."

Laura's eyes widened dramatically upon hearing the man's name. She knew his reputation just as well as Frank did and…..she knew he worked for the CIA. "What the hell did he want, Frank? What does the CIA want with you after all these years?" 

Frank couldn't answer at first. In fact he couldn't look at his wife anymore. He rose from his chair and walked to the window facing the back yard and just looked outside. Seconds turned to minutes and Frank still couldn't say what he needed to say.

"Frank?? What does the CIA want from you?" she asked again the volume of her voice rising slightly.

Again he sighed and finally answered, "They want Luis Mendoza."

Laura stared at his back and felt as if she couldn't breathe. _No….it can't be……they wouldn't! HE wouldn't!!_ "Frank……tell me that you told them no," she pleaded slightly above a whisper. Again there was a lingering silence. "Frank…..you told them no, right?" she asked, but she already knew the answer. His silence spoke volumes.

After several more minutes, he finally turned to look at her. "I leave in a week," was all he said in response.

Her face paled considerably, and her eyes lost their focus. From the second he'd said Raymond Marsh's name, she'd been prepared for just about anything. That he was in huge trouble with the CIA….that they'd be forced to move to avoid whatever trouble his refusal would have caused, but the one thing that she hadn't even considered was that he would agree to do this mission. "You son of a bitch…." she barely whispered, as her eyes once again bore into his face. "How could you do this?" she asked him, her anger escalating exponentially. She couldn't face him any more. She turned quickly and headed out of the room.

"Laura….." he pleaded as he followed her. She'd entered their bedroom and had just about closed the door when he reached it. His hand stopped the door from closing completely, a turn of events that she was not happy with. "Don't walk away from me like that," he added as he entered the room.

She spun around and glared at him. She needed to be alone, but obviously he wasn't going to let that happen. _So be it!_ "I'll do whatever I damn well please! Don't order me around like I'm one of your students!" she nearly shrieked in his face. 

"Ok," he started out, trying to regain some measure of calm, "that was poor choice of words. What I meant was, please don't walk away when we still have to discuss this."

Her mouth nearly hung open in disbelief. "Talk about it?!? What the hell is there to talk about Frank? You already agreed to the mission….whatever it may be…..and just announced to me that you're leaving in a week. So I'll repeat the question.…what is there to talk about?" She tried desperately to control the jumble of emotions inside of her. She felt hurt….angry….betrayed…..and mostly she felt scared. She remembered all too well what he'd been like after completing one of _those_ types of missions. The thought that he could revert to being that type of man again sent cold chills down her spine. 

Frank sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. "I know this isn't going to be easy on you……" Before he continued, she brusquely interrupted him.

"You're right, it isn't going to be easy on me. Worrying about you every second of every day. Wondering if you're dead or alive. Hoping and praying that they haven't found you out. But why don't you just tell me the truth?"

He looked at her with a expression on his face that bordered between confusion and a frown. "What truth?" he asked her, puzzled.

"You miss it, don't you? Admit it. That's why you jumped at the chance to do this! All that bullshit about how you wouldn't trade your teaching position for any type of field assignment. All along you were just hoping that someone would make you an offer. Well, there you go….have at it!" She was barely able to ward off the tears that were desperate to fall. As each second ticked by, she felt like she was coming closer and closer to losing any type of control she had left.

Frank stared at her in disbelief. Did she really think that about him? Or was she just lashing out because she was angry? And more importantly, would she be willing to listen to the truth? 

"Laura…I swear to God, I haven't been lying to you. Yes….sometimes teaching can be a little boring, but what I get in return far outweighs any drawbacks. And the best part is that I'm able to spend all the time I want with you and the kids."

Folding her arms in front of her, she replied sarcastically, "Oh…of course, that explains why you're leaving us. And by the way, how long will it be, Frank? A few weeks? A month?"

Frank felt his own anger rising slowly but steadily. Just like all married couples, Frank and Laura had had their share of fights and battles over the years, but he could never stomach her sarcastic tone when she really got rolling, and now was no exception. "Does it matter?" he asked for some reason. More than likely just to make her madder.

"Excuse me?!?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?? Or are you asking me why I should care because you're going to stay gone as long as you damn well please!? And if that's the case, then go to hell, for all I care!!!" And with that she flew past him and exited their bedroom. She didn't know where she was heading, she just knew that she needed to get as far away from Frank as she could. Frank, of course, wasn't going to make it easy one her as he followed hot on her heels down the hallway and into the living room. 

He expected her to stop and face him again, but she didn't. Instead she grabbed her keys and purse and headed for the front door. "Where are you going?" he asked her.

"As far away from you as I can possibly get on a tank of gas," she replied, almost muttering to herself through clenched teeth. As she reached for the front door, his hand shot over her shoulder and pressed up against the door, effectively barring her escape. She spun around, ready to do battle.

"You're not leaving like this," he announced to her. "I don't want you driving when you're this upset."

Her eyes blazed, and she nearly shook from the force of her anger. How dare he tell her what she could or couldn't do! "What the hell are you going to do to stop me Frank? Cuff me to a chair? Tie me up? Let me spell this out for you…..I'm leaving whether you like it or not!" She looked him directly in the eyes before delivering her next lines. "Does that sound familiar, Frank? It should. Now get out of my way!" With that she placed a hand in the middle of his chest and pushed him slightly away from her, using just enough force to make him move so that she could turn around and open the door. And without another word or look, she was gone.

Frank stared at the closed door and felt as if he'd just been kicked in the stomach. She was right……he had no right to demand anything from her. He was leaving, and he was doing so without her blessing or consent. He closed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair. How could he make her understand? Maybe this time away from him would help her sort through everything. Maybe she just needed some time to accept this. _Please God! I can't do this without her._

He turned from the door and tried to think of something to do to preoccupy his mind…..anything to keep him from dwelling on the events of the past hour. And so, Frank's wait began. Minutes turned to hours, and through it all, Frank tried desperately to think of anything but what was foremost in his thoughts. 

Later in the day, he went to pick up first Alicia and then Christopher from their schools. Once he had them with him, he felt more at ease, but of course, he had to field the inevitable question….."Where's Mommy?" Cringing to himself, he made up some story about Laura helping out a friend, because, quite frankly, he had no idea how long she intended to be gone.

Dinner time came and went and still no Laura. At first he'd been concerned, but now his concern was blossoming into full blown worry. He'd expected her to take a couple of hours, but when 8:00 rolled around and his wife was still nowhere to be found, he was visibly becoming upset by the situation. After putting the kids in bed and reading the obligatory story now and again, he found himself pacing the house restlessly. 

Frank looked at the phone in his hand for the hundredth time. He'd left her at least a dozen voice mails on her cell phone and still nothing. _Where the hell is she? Why won't she at least answer her damn phone so I know she's OK? _For more than a few seconds he even considered calling the area hospitals. Maybe she'd been so upset, that she'd gotten into a wreck…..maybe that's why she's not answering the phone….._Stop it Frank! She's not answering her phone, because you're the last person she wants to talk to right now! _ He continued his pacing, knowing that what he was thinking was probably the truth, but worrying just the same. 

Tired of walking to and fro, he finally settled on the couch and tried to calm down a bit. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw that it was nearly midnight. Sighing exasperatedly, he lay back on the cushions and closed his eyes. He intended to just rest for a moment or two, but sleep soon claimed him.

A few hours later, he opened his eyes, and seemed a little disoriented. First off, he didn't remember falling asleep and wondered how long he'd been out. Second, the lights were no longer on in the living room, and finally, he felt something brush up against his hand closest to the edge of the couch.

Even in the dim light, he could see Laura sitting on the floor next to him. She had her back to him as she leaned against the couch for support, her legs drawn up in front of her and her arms wrapped around them. If she sensed that he was awake, she made no move to acknowledge that fact.

He reached out and touched her hair, letting a few strands slip through his fingers. She turned slightly toward him as he did so, but she didn't really look at him. Instead she leaned her head forward, resting it against her bent knees, effectively pulling her hair out of his reach. He sighed then, knowing that this was still far from over.

"When did you get back?" he asked in the quiet darkness, still not moving from his reclined position.

"About an hour ago," she answered simply and succinctly, not elaborating in the least. He heard more than just her words, he heard the sound in her voice. He knew that sound and it broke his heart…….she'd been crying, and probably still was.

"Laura….I don't know how to make you understand, but I have to do this," he told her trying to plead his case.

"Frank…..I don't want to talk about it any more. I…..I'm tired. The decision's been made and whether I like it or not you're leaving in a week. And in spite of whatever promises you made to me or the kids, you're going to do this thing. And that's all there is to it."

Frank rose and moved to sit next to her on the floor. "No….that's not all there is to it. Do you really think this is what I want to do? Do you truly think that I want to be away from you and the kids? Do you really think that I want to break those promises? And finally…..do you really believe that I _want_ to go back to that kind of life?" He stared at her profile, but couldn't see her as clearly as he would have liked in the darkness. He couldn't see if he was getting through to her or not. "Laura, you know me better than anyone ever has. If _you _don't believe me……" he couldn't finish the sentence, but the meaning was abundantly clear. He looked at her expectantly for what seemed like endless minutes. 

Finally, she turned her head to look at him. Tears staining her face, her eyes searched his, wanting to see if the words matched what she saw there. "I believe you…..but that doesn't mean that it still doesn't hurt." She continued to just stare at him, as she sought the words she needed to say. "I love you, Frank, and I will until the moment I take my last breath, but right now……right now…..I don't like you very much, and I hate what you're going to do to this family," she finished as a sob overtook her. 

He was stunned by what she said, and in those few simple sentences she'd wounded him more than any physical blow or words shouted in anger ever could. He was speechless, utterly and horribly speechless. His shoulders slumped, his head hung in defeat, he had no defense for any of his actions. 

Finally he managed to utter, "I'm surprised you came back," he stated, not out of malice, no hidden meaning or sarcasm in his voice. He was just stating a fact.

She sighed heavily. "I thought through a thousand different scenarios, but I kept coming back to one thing."

He turned his head to look at her, "What's that?"

"If you're leaving in a week, I don't want to waste another second."

He was shocked. But before he could question her reasoning, she stood and turned to face him, her hand stretched out toward him.

"I just need some time, Frank……just give me some time. But in the meanwhile, I'm tired and I want to go to bed now."

He could still see the sadness in her eyes and what remained of the tears on her face, but she was reaching out for him, and for the first time in his life, he felt what true forgiveness was all about. Taking her hand, he too rose from the floor, and hand in hand, the two made their way to find what rest they could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	4. Measurable forgiveness

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Four 

"Frank…..Frank, wake up," Laura urged him as she shook his arm lightly.

Immediately awake, he sat up quickly and looked at her. Something in the sound of her voice told him that he hadn't merely overslept. In fact, he could tell that it was just barely after sunrise.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked her as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"I think there's someone watching the house," she informed him, a slight frown on her face.

He rose from the bed quickly, grabbing yesterday's hastily discarded pants and sliding them up his long legs. "What makes you think someone's watching the house?"

"I went out to get the paper, and I saw someone….a man I think…..in a car a few houses down. He was just sitting there, staring at me, and besides, it's a car I haven't seen before."

After zipping up his jeans, he'd quickly pulled on a t-shirt and was now headed for the bedroom door. "Are the kids up yet?" he asked as he made his way down the hall and to the front window in the living room.

"No….but they will be soon. Frank….why would someone be watching the house? Does this have something to do with this case that you'll be working on?" she inquired, suddenly concerned about the safety of the children.

"Probably……but not in the way you think," he informed her as he peered out the window in the direction she'd indicated. Sure enough, a late model black sedan was sitting no more than 50 yards away, with the driver inside not even attempting to hide his presence. Frank nearly growled, annoyed by the car being there and what it obviously meant.

"What do you mean, not in the way I think?" 

Pulling back from the window, he sat on the arm of the sofa and looked at her. "It's the CIA," he quietly told her, trying to sound like it was no big deal, although deep down inside, Frank was seething. 

"The CIA? Why would they be watching the house?" she asked a little perplexed.

Frank sighed and looked down at his hands which were locked together in front of him. "It's insurance…..they want to make sure that I don't make a run for it…..they're trying to make it painfully clear that I have no options to get out of this."

Laura stared at his bent head, and considered his words. When he first told her about this new assignment, he'd told her that he didn't have any choice in the matter. She'd assumed that he meant that it was important enough in his eyes to risk losing everything. She never once had thought that he'd been literally forced into accepting. _Why else would they be watching the house? Are they trying to intimidate him? _A thought suddenly occurred to her…..something she hadn't thought of before. They'd threatened him, but not with _his_ life.

"They threatened to come after us, didn't they? That's why you're doing this…..they forced your hand by threatening to go after your wife and children……" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Oh Jesus……they wouldn't……would they?" she asked him as a chill ran up her spine.

He looked up at her and for a split second, he considered lying to her about it. _ She's a smart woman, Frank…..tell her the truth for God's sake._ "Yes…..Marsh made a few comments that lead me to believe that something might happen to you or the kids if I didn't cooperate." He saw the myriad of emotions flashing in her eyes. Anger…..concern…..fear……and mostly he saw regret. He knew what she'd thought about him taking on this mission. That he'd done it out of some sort of twisted obligation, and he'd let her believe that. It was better than having to tell her that her life and the lives of their children were in danger.

"Frank…..I thought……" she couldn't finish her sentence as tears once again ran down her cheeks and blurred her vision. "I'm so sorry….." 

Frank rose from his position on the arm of the couch and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. "I know….I know…..it's OK. It's what I wanted you to believe. You have so many other things to worry about. I wanted to spare you this one last thing," he whispered to her as he held her as tightly as he could. After the events of yesterday, he didn't think she'd ever permit him to hold her again. Even as they slept last night, she'd stayed as far away from him as their bed would allow. 

As she held on to him, her face buried in the hollow of his neck, she thought back through everything that she'd said to him less than 24 hours ago and felt horrible. She'd been caught so far off guard with his announcement that she hadn't been able to see what she knew was the truth. Frank didn't want to return to the CIA, and she should have figured out why he would do this thing, instead of letting her anger blind her.

Pulling back from him slightly, she looked up into his eyes and opened her mouth to apologize once more, but he stopped her before she had a chance. "Don't….please…..don't apologize. You had every right to be angry, and you still do. What did you say last night? You didn't want to waste another minute. Well, neither do I…….neither do I." The last words were nearly inaudible as he spoke them against her lips. Slowly…gently…..tentatively, he kissed her. He was afraid at first at how she might react. Was she still going to pull away? Had he drastically misunderstood her change in behavior? 

Before he could contemplate the situation further, he felt her snake her arms around his neck, one hand plunging into the hair at the back of his head and pulling him more fully into the kiss. It was all the encouragement he needed. All of the feelings of the past two days came flooding out as if a dam had broken somewhere within both of them. The kiss was desperate, needy, passionate and healing, all at the same time, leaving both of them breathless as they clung to each other. If the timing had been different, he would have taken her back to bed, but they both knew that the children would be up very soon. There would be time later…..at least for a few days. 

Frank held Laura almost impossibly close to him. He needed to feel her….to touch her. His hands skimmed across her body, caressing….stroking, as his lips lingered at the sensitive areas on her neck.

Laura was slowly losing all coherent thought as Frank continued his unhurried, tender assault on her body. He was right…..they had such precious little time left for regrets, accusations or apologies. She needed this man, just as surely as she required air to breathe, and to think that she'd almost allowed her anger and hurt to rob them of what they both desperately needed……to share the closeness and love that consumed them.

Before either one of them became totally swept away by the moment, they began to hear movement upstairs. The children. Ever the perpetual early birds, Alicia and Christopher would soon be coming down the stairs in search of their breakfast. Frank pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Laura's.

"I want to keep the kids home from school for the rest of the week," he told her quietly as he stared into her soft green eyes.

She began to object, but quickly realized that the next few days may be the last time Frank would see the children for maybe quite some time. She closed her eyes and sighed sadly. "All right……but when do you plan on telling them about this assignment?"

Frank didn't answer right away. Instead he pulled back even further and really looked at his wife. He studied her features intently, almost as if he were committing every line and curve to memory. He brought his hands up and gently cupped her face, his fingers lightly dancing across her skin. He tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and thought back to the very first day that he'd seen her.

__

Coming back to the US after having lived in Columbia for so long was an eye opening experience for Frank. That, coupled with the fact that a very real part of him still thought of himself as Luis Mendoza, was making this transition back even harder than usual. For nearly a year and a half, he had **been** Luis Mendoza. He'd lived the life of a drug cartel operative while secretly gathering enough information and evidence to aid the DEA and any other agency in their attempts to halt or at least slow down some of the rampant drug trade.

__

His life there had not been entirely bad. Harsh at times, yes, but he'd still managed to find some enjoyment from time to time. The persona that he'd built for himself was one of a quiet loner. Tough……loyal……quick-tempered……..someone not to be fooled with. Just the type of person that the cartel leaders wanted as part of their inner circle. What most people didn't understand about criminals is that they aren't bad people all of the time. In fact, most have loving, caring families that they adore….friends that they're fiercely loyal to……all of the things that the regular law-abiding citizen has in their own life. This **other side**, was what Frank had been able to enjoy. 

__

As Frank sat in this woman's office, he became antsy. He hated being kept waiting. He didn't care what the higher-ups thought, he didn't need any god damned shrink screwing with his head. He was fine! Why wouldn't anyone believe that? 

He rose suddenly from the chair and paced around the floor, finally stopping at the window. Looking outside, he suddenly felt out-of-sorts. He saw people coming and going, walking through their ordinary everyday lives. Frank frowned trying to remember the last time he'd had an ordinary life. He couldn't. That was a component of the problem. The other was that he had no idea what a normal life was anymore. Part of him understood the reason for the therapy, but the other part wanted to get the hell out and go off by himself somewhere. 

As he stared out the window, he could just see his reflection in the pane of glass. His hand came up and traced the line of his beard and moustache and then glided through his long, shoulder-length hair. For a split second he felt like he was looking at a stranger and not himself. **That's why you need a psychiatrist! ** He still didn't want to be there, but he finally accepted the fact that it was essential. 

Nearly lost in thought, he almost didn't hear the door open behind him. Turning, he saw a blond woman enter the room and smile at him. His eyes took in the sight of her. She wore a simple white blouse and a gray linen suit with a skirt that ended a couple of inches above her knees. He noticed immediately that her legs were shapely and long and just begged to be touched. His eyes slowly drifted up to meet hers and he didn't even try to hide the fact that he'd been checking her out. If his perusal bothered her, she gave no indication of it. 

But the instant he really looked at her face and not just her body, he was certain that he was looking at the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. Sure, there were plenty of beautiful women in the world……super models……picture perfect actresses, but none of them were real. Illusions….nothing more. The woman that stood before him was stunning….breathtaking in his eyes. Maybe it was the contrast from what he'd grown used to seeing over the past eighteen months that made her beauty even more pronounced. He wasn't sure, but for the first time in a very long time, Frank was speechless…….utterly speechless.

"Frank?" Laura looked at him with a slight frown on her face. She'd asked him a question and he'd suddenly gotten this far away look in his eyes. Several seconds later, he still had yet to answer. "Frank? What's wrong?"

His eyes cleared and he looked into her eyes once more and smiled. "Sorry……just daydreaming."

A confused smile graced her face. "Daydreaming? About what?"

"You," he answered simply. "I was just remembering the very first time that I saw you."

She laughed softly. "What on earth made you think of that?"

He shook his head and shrugged slightly. "I have no idea. I just had this flashback of when you walked into your office and I saw you for the first time."

"Ahhhhh……you mean when you were shamelessly checking me out?" she asked him as her arms around his waist tightened.

Chuckling, he replied, "I wasn't exactly being subtle about it, was I?"

Smiling warmly, she replied, "No….subtle would not be a word that I'd use to describe you at all back then. I kind of felt like a gazelle being stalked by a lion. Your eyes followed me everywhere. I never knew what you were going to say or do."

"You mesmerized me. I knew my only reason for seeing you is so you could help me get back to being who I was before the assignment, but part of me wanted to fight that happening so that I could continue having sessions with you."

"I saw the way you stared at me, and for a few seconds I thought I was going to have to have your case reassigned."

"Why didn't you?" he asked her, suddenly curious.

She shrugged her shoulders and a hint of a mischievous smile graced her lips. "I don't know……maybe it's because I couldn't stop looking at you either." She smiled at him sheepishly. "Rather unprofessional, huh?"

"Why doctor…….I'm shocked," he mocked her. "I actually would have never guessed. I thought you were always looking at me with a little bit of fear in your eyes."

"Maybe a little," she admitted. "Some of the stories you told me……well, some of them were pretty horrific. I wondered how much of a mark they'd left on you." She suddenly started feeling uncomfortable with the conversation. She didn't want to think about the type of life or activity he was going to be going back to. She winced slightly and pulled herself free from his embrace.

Frank looked confused at first. Their conversation had been playful, and then suddenly she'd pulled away from him. Everything seemed to be fine until……. _Until you reminded her of your assignment, you idiot! _ Frank closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. In the past half hour they'd managed to heal the rift between them and then he'd gone and opened his stupid mouth.

"Laura….I'm so sorry. I didn't….." He never got a chance to finish the sentence before she interrupted him.

"I know, Frank…..I know. It's OK. I….I just don't want to think about that…..yet," she explained to him with a half-hearted smile on her face. She could still see the frown of concern on his face, so she approached him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "It really is OK. Why don't we get the kids and go out to breakfast. Then maybe we can go to the park for the day. How would that be?" she asked trying to change the subject.

Frank was more than thankful for her efforts. He'd screwed up royally, and she was still willing to forgive him. "That sounds good. And as for when I'm going to tell them…….well……I'd like to have today just for the four of us. No worries. No tears. Just us having a relaxing day together."

She smiled at him and said, "I think that's a wonderful idea. Of course, Christopher will want to know why he doesn't have to go to school for the rest of the week, but Alicia's too young to understand. Besides she's only in pre-school, so it's no big deal."

"We'll think of something to tell Christopher. I just want today, Laura….just today."

Tears started to sting the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She knew how much this was tearing him apart and she wasn't going to let her tears add to the guilt that he was undoubtedly carrying around with him. "Well if we don't get this show on the road, the whole day will pass by us," she said, trying to sound upbeat and positive. "I'll get the kids going," she informed him as she made her way to the stairs.

"Laura."

She stopped on the first step and turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked his voice thick with emotion.

The tears that she'd been able to stave off, were now back, although she tried her best to smile through them. "I love you too, Frank. Don't ever forget that," she added as she quickly made her way upstairs before she broke down completely.

Frank stared after her, almost as if moving would make her words untrue. Slowly he closed his eyes and willed himself to be strong. He didn't feel especially strong right now. In fact, he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Never in his life, even when he'd endured unspeakable things all in the name of duty, had he ever felt this unsettled or lost. His family meant more to him than anything, and if their lives had not hung in the balance, he would have never in a million years ever considered going back to the CIA. 

He turned finally, and looked out the window once more. The same car was parked in the same spot with the same man inside it. _You bastards are not going to keep me from enjoying these last few days with my family! I have until Monday and I'll be damned if you're going to rob me of this! _He pulled the curtain shut and stalked away from the window.

For the rest of the day, Frank, Laura and their children enjoyed the warmth, the sunshine and the joy of being together. After a breakfast out, they had indeed gone to a nearby park. They'd spent the day on jungle gyms, swings, sandboxes and slides. They walked, played, ran, and laughed. They'd even managed to feed a duck or two in a nearby lake. All in all, the day was restful, enjoyable and exactly what Frank needed. 

When they finally headed home, the children were exhausted and quickly fell asleep in the car. Laura turned in her seat and watched them quietly. "They look like angels when they're asleep," she whispered quietly to Frank.

"So do you," he answered in the same hushed tones, as he turned to her and smiled.

She looked over at him and could see that he was being serious, in spite of the smile on his face. She reached over and took his right hand in hers and just stared back at him, her eyes telling him everything she couldn't find the words to say.

"Thank you for today," he added softly. 

"Frank….."

"No….I mean it. I know this isn't easy on you. You have every right to be mad, hurt, angry……but instead, you've forgiven me and even let me have one more day with the kids before I tell them what's going to happen. Lesser women would have told me to go to hell and taken the kids and run, and frankly, I wouldn't have blamed them. But not you…….not you," the final words trailed off as he looked at the road in front of him.

Laura could see him struggling with the emotions deep inside him and held his hand a little tighter. Silently telling him that everything was going to be all right. One way or another, she was going to do everything in her power to make it that way. She glanced back at her sleeping children. She knew that they weren't going to receive this news well. Alicia wouldn't understand all of the implications. The only thing she would realize was that her daddy wouldn't be there every day. Christopher…..Christopher was going to be the hard one to tell. Although he was only 8 years old, he still understood quite a lot of what went on around him. _Would he be able to accept his father's separation? _ Laura sighed and answered the question silently to herself. _I don't think so. _

After returning home, Frank and Laura got the kids settled comfortably into their beds. Both went willingly, without a fight or a whimper, and surprisingly without a bedtime story.

Standing in the doorway of Alicia's room, Laura leaned up against Frank and watched her baby sleep. "I can't believe she went to sleep that easily," she whispered. 

"I know," he answered her. "When was the last time she ever went to sleep without at least a story or two……or five?" 

Laura chuckled and shook her head, "I have no idea, but I think she was only six months old at the time."

Moving away from Alicia's room, they passed by Christopher's room and saw that he hadn't moved a muscle since Frank had tucked him in. Quietly closing their son's door, Frank and Laura made their way downstairs.

Once in the living room, Laura finally asked, "Have you thought about what you're going to say to them?"

Frank sighed heavily as he sat down on the couch. "I have no idea," he answered as he scrubbed a hand across his face. "How do you tell your children that you'll probably be gone for the whole summer, or maybe even longer?"

She sat next to him, her feet pulled up next her. "You'll think of something. Just tell them as much as you can. They don't need to know the details. You can just say that you have to go away for work and that you're not sure how long you'll be gone," she suggested, trying to be helpful.

Frank put his arm around her as she snuggled close to him. "Whatever I tell them, they're not going to be happy about it. That I know for sure." Sighing once again, he continued, "I promised them so many things, Laura. A vacation……helping out with little league……..swimming lessons. How can I explain this to them? Sorry, something more important came up?" he told her, his tone becoming irritated and sarcastic.

"Frank……"

"I know…..I know. I'll think of something," he said, sounding defeated. "I'll think of something," he barely whispered to himself, silently praying for lightening to strike him before he'd have to break his children's hearts just as he had Laura's.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	5. Dark visions

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Five

Frank shifted slightly in his sleep, turning onto his side, and felt a hand begin to move from his knee slowly……. agonizingly slowly……up his thigh. He sighed contentedly as a sexy smile graced his lips. He neither hindered nor helped the hand in its slow progression. He simply waited to feel where it would go next. 

Her touch was light, teasingly so, as she continued her journey. As she slowly reached his upper thigh, she was pleased to feel that he wore nothing underneath the sheet that covered him. A stroke of luck that would aid her seduction. She paused briefly when she reached his hipbone, her fingertips drawing lazy, feather light circles on his skin. She felt him shudder slightly next to her and she smiled in response. 

Laying her palm flat against his warm skin, she moved her hand toward the center of his abdomen. In response, he unconsciously leaned a little further back toward her, giving her even better access. Her hand moved leisurely back and forth just above his pubic hair. She didn't need to look to know that even now his body was responding to her touch. Such a simple thing really…..a tender caress in just the right spot, fanning a slowly smoldering flame.

As she pressed herself up against his back, she could feel the quickened beating of his heart and the shallow breaths that quickly filled his lungs. She smiled knowing that he was now totally under her control. 

Her hand soon changed direction as she weaved her fingers into the dark, curly hair surrounding his now swelling manhood. She let the hair run through her fingers much like she would with the hair on his head. Sensing his impatience, her hand continued its descent as it finally came to rest on his already throbbing shaft. A slight hiss escaped his lips as her hand wrapped around him.

Stilling at first, she seemed content to just hold him, squeezing him lightly now and again just for good measure. Another sound came from him. Something akin to a stifled groan. Chuckling to herself, she began her final assault. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, her hand traveled the length of him. Up and down….from base to tip, she continued her deliberate torture. On and on she continued, her hand at first tightening its grip and then easing back to barely feather light touches, pausing now and again to swirl a finger across his engorged tip. The effect was utterly devastating and painfully arousing. 

On and on she continued, knowing that he wouldn't be able to continue much longer, but not yet willing to give him over to his release. Her touch lightened as she moved her body even closer to his and chose this exact moment to trigger the ultimate response that she was eagerly waiting for. 

While she brushed her aroused nipples across his strong back, she leaned forward and licked the most sensitive part of his neck, just behind his ear. As she did this, her hand began its assault anew, her movements now strong and forceful.

Frank groaned loudly, completely caught off guard by her latest maneuver. He was so incredibly close to his orgasm, but desperately didn't want it to end this way. He needed to be buried deep within her, to bring her to the brink of ecstasy along with him. 

Quicker than he thought he could move, he pulled her hand off his now rock hard shaft and turned over in order to imbed himself between her eagerly parted legs. With no warning at all, he entered her, burying himself to the hilt, and both cried out at the sudden intrusion. He stilled immediately, trying to maintain the minute control that he had remaining. His eyes closed tightly, his head buried against her shoulder, his breath came in ragged gasps. After what seemed like ages he began to move within her tight, slick chamber. Soon after, unfortunately, he began to feel himself spiraling closer and closer to oblivion, and he was utterly helpless to stop it. 

On and on he pounded into her, her legs now tightly wrapped around him, her hips meeting him thrust for thrust. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, and luckily he also sensed that she wouldn't either as her nails dug almost painfully into his backside, silently urging him on. 

Just as he neared his climax, he raised his head in order to look into her face as she joined him in ecstasy. Framing her face with his hands, he looked into her deep brown eyes, "Lucia……….." he barely whispered, her name offered as a prayer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jerking awake, Frank sat up as quickly as his trembling body would allow. His eyes darted around his bedroom, trying to discern his whereabouts. For the first few seconds, the room was unknown to him, but as the fragments of the dream began to fade, he soon realized that he was in his bed back in Virginia.

Closing his eyes tightly, he hung his head and tried to calm his still sexually charged body. The dream had been so real. The woman….her touch…..even her face had seemed so familiar….so….he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was it someone he had known before, but had somehow forgotten? He didn't know for sure, but one thing he was painfully aware of was that he now had a throbbing erection and a guilty conscience. 

He sat up more fully on the bed and ran both of his hands through his hair in frustration. He tried to shake away the lingering remnants of the dream, but he was finding it to be a nearly impossible task. He wondered absently if he'd spoken in his sleep, and if he did, he thanked God that Laura wasn't in the room to hear him. 

He looked over at the clock and saw that it was almost 8AM. Laura undoubtedly had been up for over an hour or more and had thoughtfully let him sleep longer. 

As if she knew that he'd been thinking about her, the bedroom door opened slowly and Laura peeked inside. She smiled warmly at him when she saw that he was already awake.

"Hey, sleepy head. We were starting to think that you were going to spend the whole day in bed," she informed him as she came closer and sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

The moment he saw her in the doorway, he immediately felt guilty for whatever had happened in his dream. He knew it was ridiculous. Why should he feel guilty? It was a dream, nothing more, but for some reason, he was having a hard time convincing himself of that.

When Laura sat down next to him, she immediately noticed the tenseness in his posture, the slight flush on his cheeks and the light sheen of perspiration that still clung to his body. "Hey…..are you all right?" she asked him, suddenly concerned for his welfare. "You're not getting sick, are you?" She raised her hand in order to check to see if he had a fever, but when she did so, he visibly pulled back away from her.

"Frank? What is it?" her brow furrowing in concern.

"It….it's nothing. Just a bad dream. That's all," he informed her, trying to convince himself more than her.

"A dream? Do you want to talk about it?" she inquired, easily slipping into psychiatrist mode.

Frank shook his head. "No. Actually…..I'm having a hard time remembering it now." _Liar! You remember every touch…every sensation…..every movement of the woman's hand, lips, tongue….._

Laura immediately sensed that he wasn't exactly telling her the truth, but decided to drop it because more than likely it had to do with this upcoming mission. "Are you sure? Maybe if you….."

"It's nothing, Laura. It was just a dream," he said a little more sternly than he had intended.

She frowned at him for a second before rising from the bed and walking to the door. Pausing there she turned to look at her husband once more. He sat on the bed, the sheets haphazardly wrapped around his waist, and almost looked like he was avoiding her gaze. "The kids are just finishing up breakfast. Do you want me to make you anything?" she asked, trying to change the subject.

"No….no thank you. I think I'm going to get a shower first."

"Ok….we'll probably be outside when you finish." She saw him nod his head before she left the room, still puzzled by his reactions to her presence.

Frank sighed raggedly after she closed the door and left him alone. He ran both of his hands through his hair and then clasped them at the back of his neck. While the after effects of the dream still held him, he'd considered for more than a few seconds grabbing Laura and making love to her in order to relieve his sexual frustration, but somehow doing that would have been like cheating. _Cheating on which woman? _Shaking his head vigorously, he rose from the bed on slightly unsteady legs and made his way toward the bathroom. A long hot shower, that's what he needed.

After turning the water on and adjusting the temperature, Frank stepped into the shower stall and let the water cascade over his body. He leaned against the cold tile wall and just allowed the water to work its magic on him. After several minutes, however, it became apparent that the plan wasn't working. His body was still as tight and rigid as it had been when he'd bolted awake. _God damn it! Maybe I'd better make it a cold shower instead! _

Sighing in aggravation, he knew there was only one way to alleviate the situation. Leaning into the shower spray, one arm stretched out supporting himself against the wall, he wrapped his hand around his still painfully stiff member and worked at achieving his own release. 

It had been quite a while since he'd had to resort to such measures. The last time had been well over a year ago, during a long separation from his wife due to work. He pictured her now, as he always did, pretending it were her hand touching him….caressing him…urging him toward his completion. He hung his head, letting the shower's spray play across his muscular back, as his hand worked his engorged shaft. On and on he went, his climax teetering on the edge but not plunging him into its satisfying depths. 

Even more frustrated than when he'd begun, his movements became almost spastic and violent in nature. The fact that he couldn't achieve this orgasm gnawed away at his psyche and he refused to give up. 

Suddenly….from out of nowhere……an image floated into his head. Everything else around him stilled and seemed to disappear. A woman….long, dark flowing hair….ruby red lips and caramel colored eyes. It was the lips that he couldn't tear his eyes away from. They were soft….ripe….sensual. He watched in disembodied fascination as this dark goddess knelt before him, her eyes briefly tilting to meet his own, as an erotic smile graced her luscious lips. Her tongue briefly snaked out and brushed against the head of his swollen shaft. He moaned at the simple gesture, his head falling back on his shoulders, his eyes shutting out everything but the feel of her.

When nothing else happened, he reluctantly opened his eyes once more and looked down at the woman at his feet. The second she had his attention, she slowly took him into her mouth. He groaned in pleasurable agony as he watched those ruby lips devour his eager member. He tried to close his eyes once more, but she instantly stilled her movements. Her meaning was clear, she wanted him to watch as she pleasured him, so he complied with her silent demands. 

Her actions were unhurried as she swirled her tongue around his swollen head. Slowly he could feel the pressure building inside of him as he continued to watch her sensual onslaught. Never in his life had he ever seen anything so erotic…..so arousing, and he soon found himself hurtling toward the edge of his release. His hips thrust of their own accord as he felt himself release his seed into her willing mouth. On and on it went, his climax devastating and utterly satisfying. As his body's convulsions slowly stilled, this dark beauty rose from her kneeling position and looked into his slightly glazed eyes, she whispered, "_Ahora... usted pertenece a mí_." [Now….you belong to me.] 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the second time in less than an hour, Frank snapped out of a dreamlike vision. Again the disorientation lingered as his surroundings became clearer. He could once again feel the cold tile beneath his hand, the warm water pelting his back and shoulders. _What the hell is happening to me?!? _He almost felt sick….nauseous and completely sexually satisfied all at the same time. The combination was thoroughly disturbing, to say the least. 

A thousand questions weighed down his weary mind. Was this dream woman someone he'd known before? He'd called her by a name earlier……what it was, he couldn't quite remember. She'd said something to him in Spanish. He'd understood her well enough at the time, but was having difficulty recalling that bit of information just minutes later. Why could he not climax thinking about his wife, but he could dreaming about some stranger? Or was she a stranger? Was this a dream or a memory of something from the past? So many questions and no answers. 

Even though he was standing in the middle of a shower, he suddenly felt filthy. He grabbed the soap and washcloth and scrubbed his skin, vainly trying to wash away the remnants of whatever vision had haunted him. Nearly a half hour and several layers of skin later, Frank finally stepped out of the shower.

Wandering into the bedroom, he grabbed some clean clothes and almost roughly pulled them on. His mood was foul and he knew he needed to snap out of it, and quickly. As he went to exit the room, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Something was different. He couldn't place what it was. Was his hair getting too long? Did his goatee need trimming? Had he put on a couple of extra pounds? Lost a couple? 

He shook his head. Whatever it was, it eluded him and bothered him immensely. He quickly turned and finally opened the door. Once in the hallway, he noticed that the house was eerily quiet, and then he remembered that Laura had said that she'd be outside with the kids. 

Making his way to the kitchen, he looked out through the back window and saw his family enjoying a wonderful Spring day. Laura was pushing Alicia on one of the swings while Christopher climbed up the monkey bars. He smiled in spite of his bad mood as he watched them. No matter how bad anything else in his life was, Laura and the children always lifted his spirits and made him whole again.

__

It was just a dream, Frank. It meant nothing. Even now, you can't remember all of the details. It's fading just like all dreams do. If it was a memory, don't you think you'd be able to recall it for more than five seconds? It all made sense. He reassured himself that it was all due to the stress of his current situation. He was going to be reentering a life that he thought he'd left behind well over a decade ago. 

Once again turning his attention to his family, the smile returned to his face. He never in his life could have imagined loving so completely. Not before he'd met Laura and she'd given him these two beautiful children. _Three actually…..don't forget Michael. _Of course, he would never forget his oldest son. The child that had been so cruelly taken from them due to cancer. Sighing sadly, although still smiling, he made his way toward the back door. A few more hours of play and then he'd finally tell his two precious children that he'd have to leave them. Walking outside, he approached Laura and the kids. 

"Daddy!" Alicia squealed at him, her hair flying in her face as she swung back and forth. 

"Hey princess….are you having fun on the swing?' he asked back, although it was obvious from her smile that she was.

"Uh huh…..push me Daddy!" she requested. 

Frank moved over to take Laura's position. When he passed his wife, she gave him a questioning look while she intently studied his face. She could tell that the remnants of whatever had happened earlier were still there, but he seemed to be calmer, more composed than when she'd seen him earlier. He smiled at her, trying to let her know that everything was all right, but somehow, the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

She moved away from him and joined Christopher at the jungle gym. While she kept an eye on her son, she secretly kept watching Frank out of the corner of her eyes. She sensed something was still wrong and wondered absently if she should say anything else to him. In the end, she chose not to, believing that whatever was bothering him more than likely had to do with the task that he found himself with this afternoon….telling the kids that he'd be leaving them. 

After a half hour or so of play, Frank picked up Alicia and approached Laura and Christopher. "We're going to go inside for a little while and read," he informed them, all the while looking at Laura and praying that she got his real message. He wanted to tell the kids one at a time, instead of together. Alicia would be first. Although he didn't relish the idea of telling his little girl that she wouldn't see him for quite a while, he still knew this would be easier than telling Christopher all the reasons for why he was leaving.

Laura understood his motives perfectly and nodded almost solemnly. As he passed by her, she reached out and briefly grabbed his hand, momentarily halting him. She simply looked in his eyes when he turned toward her. She let him know without a single spoken word how much she loved him. Frank smiled once again, but this time it was sincere although tinged with sadness. He squeezed her hand quickly and then released her as he continued his journey into the house, his daughter securely tucked in his strong arms. 

Once inside, he carried Alicia upstairs to her room. Sitting down in the rocking chair, he placed her on his lap and took a few moments just to look at her. In so many ways she looked like him. The dark wavy hair, dimples, the full lower lip, but she had her mother's brilliant green eyes and understanding nature. 

Alicia looked at her father quizzically. He said they were going to read a book, but he hadn't picked anything out yet. "Daddy…..read me Babar." Her current favorite book was called The Story of Babar, the Little Elephant. Although she'd had it read to her well over fifty times, she couldn't get enough of it.

"In a minute, honey. Daddy has something to talk to you about."

"Ok, Daddy," she replied with a smile.

Frank smiled back at his daughter and wrestled with himself about where to start. How could he make a 4 year old understand? "Baby, you know how sometimes we don't see grandma for a long time….like when she takes a trip back to Italy to see her family there?"

"Uh huh."

"Well……Daddy has to go away for awhile, too. Just like grandma does sometimes." He waited to see Alicia's reaction before continuing. She looked at him with her little eyebrow's furrowed, trying to understand what he was telling her. 

"Where are you going?" she asked with great concern.

"Far away, princess……far away."

"Can I come with you?" she asked, a twinkle of light in her eyes.

"No, baby. You'll have to stay here with mommy and Christopher."

He saw her eyes start to well up with tears and her lips begin to tremble. "I don't want you to go away." 

Frank felt like his heart was breaking as he watched the first tear roll down her cheek. "I know honey. I don't want to go away, but I have to." He held her in his strong arms as her tears began to overtake her. "It'll be OK, baby……I promise. Sshhhhh…….it's OK," he whispered to her over and over as she continued to cry through her hiccups. 

"No, Daddy……no……don't go, please??" she asked with her head buried against his chest.

"I have to, honey. I'm sorry……I have to go," he told her as his own eyes welled with tears. 

She suddenly pulled back from him and said, "I….I don't want you……to go away. Michael…went away too…….please Daddy! Please…..don't go!" She then threw her arms around his neck and clung to him as if he were going to disappear from right in front of her.

Frank closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held on to his little girl as tightly as he could. He'd never even considered how she viewed Michael's death. She'd been so young when it happened and for all intents and purposes, she truly didn't remember him, but what she did know was that when he _left_, her mommy , daddy and brother were sad. And now she thought that he was leaving just like Michael had. He waited a little longer, giving her time to cry herself out a bit. When he heard her sobs lessen and felt her grip around his neck weaken a bit, he slowly eased her away from his embrace so that he could look at her.

He wiped the remaining tears from her round cheeks and brushed her hair away from her face. "Baby……Daddy's not going away forever. I promise. I'll be gone for awhile, but I promise that I'll be back."

She continued to hiccup and her breath caught every time she inhaled deeply. Her eyes were downcast almost as if she were afraid to look at him. He placed his fingers under her chin and raised her face up so that he could see her. "I promise, Alicia…….I promise. I'll be back before you know it. You'll see, but I promise that I'll be back."

She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and looked very seriously into Frank's eyes. "Are you sure I can't come with you?" she asked one last time, a glimmer of hope still in her eyes.

"I'm sure, baby. I wish that you could, believe me. I wish that you and mommy and Christopher could all come with me, but you can't. I have to go away because of work, and as soon as I'm done, I'll come straight home."

Alicia looked down at her hands as if she was considering something very important, before saying anything further. "Will you read me a story when you get back?"

For some reason her simple request, nearly broke his heart. At this age, all she wanted was for him to spend time with her. No demands……no manipulations…..just simple love and caring. It took everything he had to hold down the emotions threatening to overflow from within him. 

"Yes, princess. I promise that when I get back, I'll read you a story…..I'll tuck you into bed……I'll push you on the swing……whatever you want."

"Ok, Daddy," she said, still sniffing. She leaned back against his chest and played with the front of his shirt. "I love you, Daddy."

Frank looked at the ceiling and took a trembling breath before answering. "I love you too, baby…..I love you too," he told her barely above a whisper. 

He held her in his arms for fifteen or twenty minutes more as they quietly rocked together. He kept expecting her to ask other questions, maybe to even start crying again, but after a time he realized that she'd fallen asleep. Probably from crying so hard. He waited a little while longer before picking her up and carefully placing her on her bed. Kneeling down next to her, he simply gazed at her, thankful that God had given him such a wondrous gift. A short while later, he left her room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Once out in the hall, he leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and hung his head. Telling Alicia had almost killed him. How was he supposed to tell his son what was going to happen? Alicia was still too young to be concerned with all of the details, but Christopher was very bright and old enough to know when something wasn't right. Knowing that he was only putting off the inevitable, he slowly made his way downstairs. 

He walked into the kitchen and saw Laura and Christopher sitting on the back porch together, sipping on what looked to be lemonade. Taking a deep breath, he opened the screen door to join them.

Laura immediately looked at Frank trying to gauge how his talk with Alicia went. It took her all of about a second and a half to see the hurt and anguish in his eyes. He couldn't hide it from her, even if he wanted to. 

"Hey Dad……will you pitch some balls to me so I can practice my batting?" Christopher asked eagerly since baseball was now officially his newest obsession.

Frank glanced at Laura before answering, "How about if we do that a bit later. There's something I want to talk to you about first."

As if on cue, Laura rose from her place on the porch step and started for the back door. "Where's Alicia?" she asked Frank softly as she passed him.

"She's asleep up in her room. I think……she wore herself out," he explained to her without saying too much.

Laura nodded in understanding. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked him, looking into his eyes as she did so.

Frank considered it for a second, but he knew if he asked her to stay, it would be for purely selfish reasons. "No….why don't you check on Alicia." She nodded and entered the house, leaving Frank and Christopher alone.

Frank sat down where Laura had been just seconds ago. Christopher had a baseball in his hands and was tossing it into the air and catching it, over and over again. When Frank didn't say anything after a few moments, Christopher looked in his direction expectantly.

Frank turned and looked at his son, and just as he'd done with Alicia, he gazed at him and marveled at how his son was so like him and Laura all at the same time. Christopher had Laura's fairer coloring, her light blond hair, but he had his brown eyes and the same dimples when he smiled. He smiled thoughtfully at his son, when he sensed that the boy was becoming confused by his silence.

"Christopher…….I know I promised you a lot of things about this summer. Swim lessons, a fishing trip……..but I'm afraid I won't be able to do those things."

"Why not?" his son asked simply.

Frank sighed before continuing. "I've been given a new assignment. I'll be leaving next week, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."

Christopher remembered the days when his father used to work in Chicago. Although he didn't like that he was gone for days at a time, he knew that it wouldn't last for too long. He didn't understand how this would be any different. "How long will you be gone?" he asked with great concern.

"I'm not sure," Frank answered truthfully. "It could be quite awhile. Maybe….maybe the whole summer…..maybe longer."

Christopher stared at Frank, his eyes widened, his mouth open in something akin to shock. "All summer?!?" 

"I'm afraid so. I know……" Christopher interrupted him before he could continue.

"But you promised! You said that when we moved here it would be different! You said….."

"I know what I said!" Frank nearly shouted back. "I'm sorry, Christopher. I truly am, but this is my job….."

"I don't care about your job!" Christopher yelled back, suddenly standing and confronting Frank. "You promised! After Mom got hurt, you said that you wanted to be home more! You said that's why we were leaving Chicago! So why did we leave there, if you were just going to go away again?!?"

"Christopher….sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. That's just the way it is. I don't want to take this assignment, but I have no choice," Frank tried to explain as well as he could. 

"I don't care!" Christopher shouted back at him. "I don't want you to leave! You promised!" he repeated again, trying to keep himself from crying like his baby sister always did.

"Christopher……" Frank tried once more, fighting to remain calm himself.

"No!! I hate you! I wish we'd never left Chicago! **I hate you!!**"Christopher screamed at his father as he ran in the house.

Frank sighed raggedly and buried his face in his hands. He knew that his son didn't mean what he'd said, but the words stung nonetheless. He wouldn't have blamed him if he really did hate him. He'd been uprooted twice now, forced to leave behind any friends that he'd managed to make all because of forces beyond his control. 

It was all so unfair. Christopher and Alicia were losing there father for an undetermined amount of time……Laura would have to do without the husband who'd sworn that he'd be there for them everyday……..and he was being forced to leave behind everything that he held near and dear to his heart in order to be a pawn for the CIA once more. 

Frank sighed once more and looked at his son's abandoned baseball. _Oh Christopher……I wish we hadn't left Chicago too. _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  



	6. Sanity in question

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Six

Frank sat alone on the back porch for close to a half hour before Laura finally emerged from the house. She silently moved toward him and took a seat beside him on the steps.

"How is he?" Frank asked quietly, knowing that Laura had probably spent the last half hour trying to calm their son down .

She sighed before answering, "He's hurt….he's angry."

Frank nodded his head solemnly as he continued to just stare out into the back yard. There was nothing else to say. He'd done what he had to do, and felt lower than low. Dirt stuck to the bottom of a filthy shoe.

Laura leaned even closer to him, entwined her arm with his and lay her head against his strong shoulder. "They'll be OK, Frank. They just need some time to come to grips with the idea that they won't see their father every day. We've all gotten spoiled having you here 7 days a week."

Once again, Frank simply nodded. He knew she was right. Children were remarkably resilient. What seemed to be a crisis one day could become inconsequential the next, but Christopher's words kept playing over and over in his head. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make them go away. His son hated him…..hated him for leaving….hated him for taking their family away from Chicago. 

"I want to ask you a question, and I want you to tell me the truth," he stated, turning slightly in order to be able to look at her.

"OK….what is it?" she asked curiously.

"Do you wish we'd stayed in Chicago?" he asked as he looked straight into her eyes, knowing that he'd be able to read the answer there before she even uttered a word.

She smiled sadly and brought her hand up to caress the side of his face. "Frank…..sure there are things I miss about Chicago. I miss the people…..the change of seasons…….we had a good life there, but the one thing we didn't have was _you_. Your work took you from us, sometimes for weeks at a time. And when you were home, there were more days than I could count that you wouldn't get home till after midnight." 

He continued to gaze into her eyes trying to see if she were telling him the truth, or merely telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. He saw no deception in their depths and knew that she meant what she said. He reached for her hand and tenderly kissed her palm. She'd always had a way of making things better for him. And as always happened in situations like this, he felt his heart swell with the love he held for her there. "Thank you," he replied quietly.

"I'm only telling you the truth," she told him with an understanding smile. "And speaking of Chicago, I had a very interesting phone call right before I came out here."

"Really?" he asked, looking down at his hand now entangled with hers.

"Yep. It was Alex. She wanted to know if we were free to come to Chicago anytime soon. Seems she has some vacation time coming up and was hoping to plan some of that around us. Isn't it weird that she just _happened_ to call now?" she asked, with a slight hint of sarcasm to her voice.

"That is weird," Frank replied, still not meeting her penetrating stare.

"Frank…..did you have something to do with this?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

Although he still hadn't looked at her, a tiny trace of a smile began to grace his lips. "Maybe……." was all he said in reply.

She smiled at him and then leaned forward and kissed his lips tenderly. "Thank you for that, although it really wasn't necessary."

"I just thought it might be nice for the three of you to get away for a while once the kids are out of school. Maybe it'll help take your minds off…….other things."

"Maybe we will go, but I want to be here if you need us."

"Laura…..I'll know where to find you. I always do. Go to Chicago….have a good time with everyone, and don't worry about me. I'll do this job and then I'll come home as quickly as I can."

She looked at Frank for a short while longer before answering. Part of her wanted to stay here and try to go about their lives as normally as possible in Frank's absence, but the other part thought it might be a good idea to find something to occupy their time while he was gone. Since her "accident" over a year ago, they'd all grown very close to the member's of Frank's former team. They were like family now and she missed them.

"All right. I think we will go. I'll call Alex later and see what we can work out." 

"Good. Maybe Jake or one of the others can help Christopher with his swim lessons."

Laura hesitated a second before asking her next question. "Do they know? About this mission, I mean."

Frank shook his head. "Not really. I told them that I had an important assignment that I had to deal with, and that I'd be gone for a couple of months. I just didn't say who it was for, although they'll probably be able to guess."

"Frank……do you know any of the details of this mission?" she asked him hesitantly, gripping his hand a little tighter.

He turned once again to look at her and could see the fear and tentativeness in her soft features. "No…..All Marsh told me was that he needed Luis back. That's all I know. I'm assuming that I'll be going back to Colombia, but I'm not sure."

"And you won't know before you leave here, will you?" she asked looking into his soft brown eyes.

He merely shook his head in response, not knowing what else to say.

"So I really won't know where you are once you walk out this door on Monday morning."

"Laura…..please…..please don't worry. I'll be all right," he told her as he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her forehead softly.

Laura breathed in deeply, trying to calm her escalating emotions. She didn't want to start crying again. In fact she made a promise to herself, to try to prevent that at all costs. She knew it tore Frank up to see her upset, and she'd try everything in her power to not add to his steadily growing guilt. 

She tilted her head up to look at him and smiled as brightly as she could. "I know. You've probably been in worse situations, and I never knew about it."

He smiled in response. "Me?? Never," he kidded with her. He knew very well that she was trying to put on a brave front for him. He wished she didn't feel that was necessary, but he appreciated her efforts just the same. 

He was married to an amazing woman. He knew that unequivocally and without question. How many other women would have been able to put up with his work schedule over the years? Although he knew she hadn't liked him being gone as much as he had been, she'd never once thrown a fit or made him feel guilty for it. As he often did, he marveled at how strong their marriage was throughout it all, and most of the credit had to be given to the beautiful creature sitting at his side. Her strength had seen them through even the worst of times and he silently prayed that that same strength could endure this latest storm. 

He leaned toward her slowly, almost as if he wanted to savor each second….each movement. His lips lightly and almost delicately captured hers. He kissed her much the same as he had that very first time so many years ago. After so many years of being together….being married, she could still take his breath away. He kissed her gently, sensually……molding his lips to hers. Then, as often happened, he felt the heat inside begin to rise. He brought his hand up to her face, his thumb softly caressing her cheek as he intensified the kiss. His tongue now sought and gained entrance to her eagerly awaiting mouth. 

Just as their heart rates increased, their breaths became shallow and rapid, Frank suddenly broke off the kiss and pulled away from her. She was startled by his sudden movement and looked into his eyes trying to figure out what the problem was. What she saw there was something very much like confusion.

"Frank? What is it?" she asked as her own hand moved to stroke his forearm. 

He shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. "I….I thought I heard one of the kids. Maybe Alicia's woken up from her nap."

Laura nodded. "You're probably right. She usually doesn't nap during the day anymore, so if she isn't up already, I'm sure she will be soon. Maybe I should go check on them," she said as she reluctantly stood and gazed down at her husband as he still sat on the porch steps.

He nodded and took her hand and kissed it lightly. "You probably should. I'd do it, but I'm sure that I'm the last person they want to see right now," he told her with a sad grin.

"It'll be all right, Frank. Just give them a day or so."

"I know……I know," he answered, lowering his head so that she couldn't read the uncertainty in his eyes.

She didn't know what else to tell him so she moved toward the door and went to check on her children, leaving Frank alone once more.

After he heard the screen door open and close and her soft footfalls move further into the house, he buried his face in his hands. There were many things that he was certain of in his life. He knew that his wife and children loved him (in spite of recent events)……he knew that he was very good at what he did for a living (arrogance be damned)……and he knew that there were certain friends that he could depend on unquestionably. The one thing he was not certain of anymore was whether or not he had a firm grasp on reality.

Just a few short moments ago, while he had been intently kissing his wife, he could have sworn…….just for a few seconds……no longer than it would have taken to bat an eye………he could have sworn that he was kissing someone else. The image was there and gone before he could really even register it, but it bothered him nonetheless. _What the hell is wrong with me?? I've been a lot more stressed about work before. So why now?_

He sighed heavily and tried to recapture the fleeting image that had so rudely interrupted a tender moment with his wife. Who was the woman he kept picturing? Was she someone he had known before? During a mission perhaps? Once again so many questions flooded his mind.

What disturbed him even more than not remembering was the feeling that came with each "vision". A weird mixture of lust and disgust that disturbed him relentlessly. How could he have such an intense sexual reaction and yet still feel like he needed to have himself deloused? 

He stood suddenly and paced out into the back yard. He needed to do something….anything to keep his mind off of……..well…..off of whatever it was. A dream….a vision……a memory. For about a second and a half, he actually considered telling Laura about it. She was a psychologist/psychiatrist after all, maybe she could help him through whatever was bothering him. Then, of course, he thought about _what_ he had to tell her, and decided against it. _How do you explain to your wife, even if she is a doctor, that you're having fantasies about another woman? _

A sound disturbed his reverie, and he turned to see Laura walking down the porch steps with a clearly upset Alicia wrapped around her. Any other thoughts went flying out of his head when he saw them.

"Hey….what's wrong, princess?" he quietly asked his daughter.

"She was having a bad dream when I went upstairs. When she woke up she insisted that she wanted to see you," Laura explained to him.

"Daddy?" Alicia managed to say between sniffs, as she reached for her father.

Frank took her in his arms and hugged her tightly to him. "What is it, baby?" he asked her tenderly.

"I…..I woke up and I……thought you were gone…..like you said. You didn't say…..goodbye," she told him through gentle sobs.

He held onto her tighter, rubbing her back trying to comfort her. "Sssshhhh….it's OK. I'm still here, and I would never leave you without saying goodbye. You know that, don't you?"

"Uh huh," she replied, her head still buried around his neck.

He looked at Laura and the two exchanged silent dialogue. He was telling her that this was killing him and she was telling him that the kids just needed time to adjust…..all of this without uttering a single word. Laura reached up and rubbed her daughter's back as well, her fingers grasping Frank's for a second or two in comfort.

"Hey sweetie," Laura began. "Do you want to help me get lunch ready?"

Alicia at first did not respond, but then she slowly pulled back and looked at her mother while she wiped away the remaining tears from her face. "OK……can we have grilled cheese?" 

Laura smiled warmly and exchanged another quick glance with Frank as if to say, _See…..all it took was a little grilled cheese to make her feel better. _"That sounds good. How about we see if your brother wants to help, too?"

Alicia nodded her head and scrambled down out of her father's arms. "Do you want to help too, Daddy?" she asked as she took his hand, pulling him toward the house.

"Sure, honey. Although I think the three of you cooking may be enough," he told her jokingly.

"Sweetie….why don't you run and get Christopher?" Laura suggested.

"Ok," she responded before taking off toward the house in a full tilt run.

"See……she'll be OK," Laura told Frank as she took his hand herself.

He held onto her and the two strolled toward the back door. "If only all the other problems could be solved so easily," he told her, never quite turning in her direction.

Lunch didn't go quite as smoothly as either Laura or Frank had hoped. While their daughter seemed to be accepting her father's impending departure, Christopher was insistent on being stubborn and angry. He rarely spoke and when he did it was always in one syllable answers. And so it continued for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Frank sighed sadly, hoping that somehow, someway, Christopher would find a way to accept things before he left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening, Frank sat tiredly on the side of his bed. The whole day had been an emotional roller coaster, and Christopher's behavior only seemed to magnify that. His mind was so preoccupied that he almost didn't hear Laura enter the room and quietly close the door. 

He watched her as she went around the room preparing herself for bed. Every movement she made was part of her nightly ritual, but for some reason, Frank was looking at her as if she'd gone through none of these same steps before. 

Laura slipped a simple white t-shirt over her head…..what she always wore to bed……when she suddenly caught Frank's gaze in the mirror. His expression was intense but unreadable. She turned around to look at him, cocking her head to one side, trying to figure out what mood he was in. She knew that today had not been easy on him, and she'd half expected him to be sound asleep when she came down from putting the children to bed. She saw the tiredness in his eyes, but there was something else there as well…..sadness, of course……but also……what? 

She approached and stood before him, her hand instinctively reaching out to run her fingers through his short hair. As she did so, he closed his eyes and pulled her closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her slim waist and rested his head between her breasts. She was caught off guard by the vulnerability that she sensed within him. She knew her husband could be many things……intense……angry……passionate….. tender……but somehow she never thought of him as being vulnerable.

Her hands soon left his hair and began an exploration of his broad shoulders and strong back. As she did so, he breathed in deeply, snuggling his head even further into her embrace. For a second she could have sworn that he almost sounded like he was purring in contentment.

His hold on her waist loosened somewhat as his hands began their own journey. Slowly they drifted to her waist and down, skimming the outside of her smooth thighs, before traveling upwards under the hem of her t-shirt. They soon found the waistband of her panties and insistently began to pull them down. Once they found their way around her ankles, she easily stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.

Now that she was free of any other clothing, save her t-shirt, Frank's hands found no other barriers as they were now able to explore her smooth skin at will. Starting at her calves and working upward, his hands caressed the soft skin at the back of her legs. Once at the backs of her thighs, his hands continued on until they found the soft flesh of her derriere, kneading the flesh hungrily before moving on. Up her back they continued before moving toward the outer swells of her ample breasts. The second his probing hands connected with her all ready erect nipples, she moaned softly and rested her head on top of his, her hands now playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

In one swift move, he pulled her body down onto the bed next to him. The minute his own body covered hers, his mouth hungrily devoured her eager lips. No gentleness, just pure unadulterated want and need. When, after several minutes, Frank suddenly pulled back away from her, Laura worried that something was wrong, much as she had in the afternoon when Frank had broken off their kiss. 

Before she had a chance to say anything, Frank quickly explained in between labored breaths, "I want to slow this down. I want to remember every move….every touch."

She brought her hands up to frame his face, smiling warmly in the soft light from the bedside lamp. She raised her lips to his, barely touching, just softly exploring. This simple gesture was all the response that he needed to know that she understood. 

So he loved her…..unhurriedly….gently. And when he entered her sometime later, his eyes never left hers, as if he was sharing so much more than the pleasure that two bodies could give each other. He was sharing his soul. 

Almost three hours later, Frank was still wide awake with Laura curled up comfortably beside him. He turned on his side to look at her, and reached out gently to brush a stray hair out of her face. It amazed him to no end how much he loved her…..how much he needed her. _So if everything is so wonderful, why can't you sleep?_

Rolling onto his back once more, he thought about the events of the day. After waking from a disturbing dream, the day had pretty much gone to hell. His daughter was afraid that he'd slip out of her life without saying goodbye. His son hated him and refused to talk to him, and Laura…… Sighing contentedly, he turned his head to gaze at her sleeping form. Somehow, she always managed to make things better. He silently thanked God, that she'd somehow found it in her heart to forgive him for what he was about to do. Because if he'd been forced to leave on Monday morning without that forgiveness, he knew he'd have been pretty much ending his marriage. He shuddered just thinking about how empty his life would be without her.

He closed his eyes, once again trying to will himself to sleep, but gave up after several minutes when it appeared that sleep would not come that easily to him. Rising carefully from the bed, he made his way to the kitchen to get a drink. In the nearly silent house, he made his way to the cabinet above the sink. In it, he found an already opened bottle of Jack Daniel's. Taking a small glass from one of the cabinets, he poured himself the equivalent of maybe 2 shots before once again recapping the bottle. Staring at the brown liquid as he swirled it around the bottom of the glass, he prepared himself for its burning after effects. Downing the contents in one swallow, he grimaced at the feel of it washing down the back of his throat. He stood with his hands braced up against the kitchen counter and felt the liquor begin to work its way through his body. Once the initial effects began to fade away, he put the bottle back into the cabinet, washed out the now empty glass and headed back toward his bedroom. 

As he stood in the doorway, he noticed that Laura had turned over in her sleep so that she was now facing him, the sheets twisted around her still nude body. He let his eyes drift over her form, lingering on the bare arm and shoulder and bare leg that had escaped the sheets. Perhaps due to the alcohol he'd just consumed, he felt his body responding once again. He wondered briefly if she'd mind if he woke her.

__

"Go ahead….wake her," a disembodied voice urged him.

"No….she needs her sleep," he responded, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was carrying on a conversation with no one. 

"_What's wrong, Luis? Do you have no control over your woman?" _

"It's not that," he responded, his eyes never leaving his wife's sleeping form. "She has a lot to deal with. She needs her rest."

The voice, a female voice he decided, laughed evilly very close to his ear. _"Soooo…..my dear Luis is…..how do they say in America?…..pussy-whipped?"_

"Stop it!" he nearly hissed in the quiet room. "It's not like that!"

__

"Isn't it? The man I used to know would never allow a woman to rule his needs….his wants. You desire her, yes?"

"Of course, I do. She's my wife."

"_Wife?!? She's just another woman, my love. Someone to be used and discarded, just like every other woman you've fucked and left behind. Or have you forgotten?" _the voice purred in his ear.

"No! I love her and she loves me!" he stammered, a frown creasing his forehead.

__

"Does she now? How precious! Of course once you've left, God only knows how many men will have their way with her. Do you truly believe that she opens her legs only for you? Why do you think she wants to go back to Chicago? That young agent….what's his name? Jake? Have you seen the way she looks at him? He's had her, Luis, and he will again just as soon as you're out of the picture."

Frank stared at his wife and knew that what the voice said wasn't true, but somewhere in the back of his mind, a small seed of doubt was planted. Laura loved him. He was absolutely sure of that……or was he? Was the reason she'd forgiven him so easily due to the fact that she couldn't wait for him to leave? His brow furrowed deeply before dismissing the idea with a nearly violent shake of his head.

"No…..she loves me. I know that," he responded, although with slightly less conviction than when the so-called conversation had started.

The tone of the woman's voice changed slightly. Now it was less caustic…less venomous…..taking on a sultry timber. _"Of course she loves you……she desires you just like I do. Have you begun to remember me?" _

Frank closed his eyes as he felt a hand begin to drift up his still bare back. He swore he could feel heavily polished nails lightly scratch his sensitized skin, causing him to shudder, with desire or repulsion, he wasn't sure. "Lucia…..stop…..please," he whispered into the darkness.

"_Ahhhhh…..so you do remember me. Do also remember the hours and days that we would spend together in bed, my darling Luis? Hmmmm? No? Your mind may not, but I can already feel your body responding to my touch, just as it did so many years ago."_

For a few seconds, Frank allowed her touch to lull him into some sort of hazy, lust-filled dream state. His eyes were closed and all he could sense was the touch of her hands as they meandered over his steadily hardening form. He opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was Laura's still sleeping form. As if on fire, he pulled himself away from Lucia's phantom embrace. Adrenalin rushed through his veins, as he tried to calm his panicked mind. _Oh dear sweet Jesus! What the hell is wrong with me?!?_

His back was now to the bed, his hands splayed out on the dresser top as he hung his head trying to calm himself. After several seconds, he finally felt his heart rate begin to return to normal. He raised his head to look into the mirror, trying to assure himself that Laura had not awoken during his latest hallucination. What he saw instead nearly stopped his heart.

In the mirror, not only did he see a reflection of himself as he looked some 14 years ago, but standing slightly behind him he saw the woman that just seconds ago had invaded his mind and troubled his body. Spinning around faster than what he would have thought possible, he grabbed Lucia by the upper arms in a nearly violent grip and glared at her as if he wanted her dead.

"Leave me the hell alone!!" he yelled at her shocked face. He shook her pliable body, as if doing so would finally rid him of her.

A voice slowly worked itself into his overtired, disturbed brain. Something familiar about it drew him, and he closed his eyes trying to relax his tense muscles, following its sound. 

"Frank…….Frank! Stop it! Please!" he heard the voice urge him.

Frank opened his eyes once more, but the woman that had been there just mere seconds ago was gone, but in her place, Frank found himself clutching his frightened wife. The look on her face was one of pure fear and panic. His hold on her immediately loosened as he slowly made the transition from sleep to wakefulness.

"Oh God," was all he managed to whisper, before the look of dread took over his once violent features. He looked at Laura's crying face and knew that he'd scared her to death and probably hurt her in the process. He took one of his hands off of her arm and made a gesture toward her face, just wanting to wipe away a tear, but she scrambled away from him, nearly falling as she sat on the side of the bed, her legs no longer able to support her. 

"Stay away from me," she hissed at him.

"Laura….oh God…..I'm so sorry. Did I…..did I hurt you?" he asked, although he could already see the bruises beginning to form on her upper arms.

"What the hell was that, Frank? What's happening to you?"

He shook his head as he closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from breaking down in front of her. "I….I don't know. Just a bad dream," he told her trying to convince himself more than her.

"A bad dream?? Are you kidding me? You looked like you were ready to kill me just now! You call that a dream?!"

"Laura….." he began as he tried to move toward her.

"NO!!! Stay away from me!" she yelled at him as she clutched at the sheets and blankets off of their bed, covering up her nakedness. 

He approached her nonetheless, kneeling down at her feet. He felt totally defeated. He'd almost caused her more bodily harm than just mere bruising and it killed him inside to see the fear in her eyes. 

"Laura….please," he whispered, his head hung before her, his eyes closed tightly. "I swear to God….I didn't know it was you. I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to know that," he barely managed to say before losing his voice entirely. He looked up at her still suspicious, apprehensive face. 

She simply looked at him for a moment, studying his obviously apologetic features. There was something so much more than a bad dream going on with him. She could sense it with every fiber of her being. It was more than a dream….more than the stress of this upcoming mission. Before she had a chance question him about any of it, he rested his head on her lap, his arms wrapping around her lower legs.

Once again she felt that vulnerability that she's sensed earlier. "What's going on, Frank? Please……please tell me," she implored him. 

"I don't know……I swear. I don't know what it is," he told her, silently wishing that it were true, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he already knew and it made his blood run cold. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	7. An unexpected decision

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Seven

After kneeling at Laura's feet for nearly a half hour, begging her forgiveness, Frank suddenly rose and made his way toward the bedroom door. 

"Where are you going?" Laura asked, slightly confused by his sudden and abrupt departure.

"I'm going to sleep on the living room couch," he replied with an almost blasé attitude.

"You're kidding me, right? Don't you think we need to talk about this?" she asked with a decidedly hard edge to her voice.

He'd been standing in the doorway with his back to her, but now slowly turned to face her. "It can wait until the morning," he informed her as if the matter were no more important than a leaky faucet.

She stared at him for more than a few seconds with a shocked look on her face. Just minutes ago he'd been swearing that he loved her more than anything and that he was sorry for scaring her, and even worse for hurting her, and now he stood before her with an expression on his face that could only be described as boredom or disinterest.

"Frank…..less than an hour ago you were having some sort of…….I don't know…..flashback…..nightmare, and now you're shrugging it off like it's nothing?!? I can't believe this!" 

"Laura…..I said that I was sorry. What more do you want?" he asked her with an almost annoyed tone to his voice.

Whatever sympathy and understanding she'd tried to muster went flying out the window with that statement/question. "Get the hell out! Go! Go sleep on the couch! I don't give a shit!" she hissed at him.

He turned then, and without another look back, he made his way toward the living room, closing the bedroom door behind him. Once there, he sat down heavily on one of the easy chairs. Regardless of how he'd appeared to Laura just then, Frank Donovan was falling apart inside. He sagged into the chair and just stared blankly in front of him.

__

I could have killed her……dear God! With the thoughts racing through my head at that exact moment, I could have killed her! He leaned his head on the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. His mind felt numb…..his body was lifeless. _I almost killed my wife……_

He knew she was hurt and angry, but at the moment he was seriously afraid for her life. He was a danger, pure and simple. He wanted to be able to explain everything to her, but he had no idea where to start or even if he could explain it all. Minute by minute….hour by hour, he felt like his mind was slipping away from him. But it wasn't that simple. Stress, he could understand, even insanity, but this….this was something entirely different. This was dark….malevolent and dangerous. He had no explanations, but he had a sinking feeling that he knew who would. Raymond Marsh. 

Suddenly drawing on energy reserves that he didn't know he had, he rose from the chair and began to frantically pace back and forth across the living room floor. Part of him wanted to pick up the phone and call the bastard to find out what he knew about what was happening to him, but the other part of him was desperately afraid to find out. 

Reluctantly, he tried to bring back some of the memories that he'd buried long ago. Was this woman a part of his past with the CIA? He believed that she was, it would only make sense. She called him Luis, so what other explanation could there be? _You could be making her up. _He stopped pacing for a second to consider the possibility. Why would he do that? Why would he start fantasizing about a woman who both repulsed and attracted him? Shaking his head almost violently as if trying to rid himself physically of the idea, he began his pacing once more. 

After almost an hour of trudging through sometimes painful memories, Frank was no closer to finding the answers that he needed. During the nearly 18 months that he _was _Luis Mendoza, he didn't remember anyone who fit the description of this Lucia. As the minutes ticked by, and with every step he took, Frank Donovan became more and more convinced that his mental state was in question. _You have no recollection of who she is……she wasn't a part of your mission……so that only leaves one possibility……you're losing touch with reality. _ He suddenly stopped pacing, and sank down into one of the chairs once more. _I'm going crazy……_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside, in the ever present black sedan, a nameless agent picked up a cell phone and called a preset number.

"I'm sorry to call you so late sir."

"I'm assuming that this is important," the voice on the other end grumbled sleepily.

"Yes sir. I believe it is. I've been observing Donovan's house and there seems to be some activity inside."

"What kind of activity?"

"Well sir…..for the last hour or so, Donovan has been pacing back and forth through what I assume is his living room. He seems very upset about something."

"Is that so?" Marsh asked with a bemused sound to his voice. "Hmmmm…..be prepared for Agent Donovan's almost certainly imminent departure. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir. Should I keep him from leaving the area, sir, or should I just follow and observe?"

"If I'm correct, and I'm fairly sure that I am, I don't believe that Donovan will get very far. Report back in with anything further."

"Yes sir," the lackey answered dutifully. 

Marsh turned off his phone and smiled smugly to himself. _Sooooo……Donovan's upset by something. How interesting….. _He immediately went about dialing a new phone number.

"It's Marsh….." he barked into the phone when the phone was answered. He rolled his eyes when he heard the person on the other end of the line begin to question the lateness of the hour. "I don't give a shit if I woke you up! This is important or why else would I have called in the middle of the fucking night?!?!"

He listened for a moment or two before once again interrupting. "Fine….fine….whatever! Will you shut the hell up for two seconds! Prepare everything for immediate arrival. Yes….yes….I know we planned on Monday evening, but it seems that our dear Agent Donovan seems to have need of our services before then." Listening for a few more moments, nodding his head occasionally, Marsh continued. "That's right……exactly……have everything ready immediately. Is that understood? Good." And with that, he abruptly shut off the phone. 

He slowly paced through his elaborately decorated DC townhouse. _This is going better than I had expected. A couple of weeks of further programming and "Luis" will be in place. _Smiling again to himself, he turned finally and made his way toward his home office. Additional phone calls needed to be placed in order for all of the pieces to be ready for Donovan's arrival. _And they said that Donovan had been too long out of the game! Once a CIA operative, always a CIA operative……_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laura continued to sit alone, scared, hurt and angry beyond belief. _How could he just walk out like that!?!? _Shaking her head and wiping away the remaining tears from her tired face, she scrambled up out of bed and redressed in the t-shirt and panties that she'd donned just hours ago. As she passed the mirror over their dresser, she caught sight of the ugly bruises that were beginning to form on her upper arms. She'd never seen Frank so mad….about anything. 

Once again she shook her head, trying vainly to scatter the images that for a brief moment clouded her brain. Once she was dressed, she headed for the door, bound and determined to confront him about whatever demons had possessed him. With her hand on the bedroom's doorknob, she froze in her tracks. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the door. For the first time in all of the years that they'd known each other, she was actually afraid of her him. _That's not exactly true……_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

Laura paced back and forth in her office, firing off question after question. In the two weeks that she and Frank had worked together, they had yet to uncover the one memory that would help unlock all of the rest. 

The idea behind any deprogramming, was to help the patient begin to peel away the layers of their "other" personality and eventually uncover the person that they were before their assignment. She'd been told by the powers-that-be that Frank Donovan was one of the best field agents that they had. He didn't just pretend, he became. Now, while this made him a valuable agent in the field, it made his deprogramming all that more difficult. 

Of course, he responded, albeit begrudgingly, to his given name, but other than that, they had yet to "uncover" any of his former self. As each day passed and still no progress was made, she began to doubt her abilities and Frank began to be more and more agitated. 

He understood that her constant barrage of questions was necessary, but he was beginning to resent the interrogation and in some ways her presence. He sat in one of her office chairs answering the same endless list of questions………what was your first pet?………who was your 8th grade English teacher?………what is your mother's maiden name?……etc, etc. Of course he had an answer to each question, but she seemed unable or unwilling to accept his answers. She'd simply dismiss his response or look once again at the rather large file sitting on her desk as if checking his answer against whatever information it contained. He'd let her play her little games for a short time more and then no longer.

"What city was your father born in?" she asked as she continued to walk back and forth.

Frank sighed heavily and laced his hands in front of him as he answered, "Bogotá."

She glanced at him sharply from the corner of her eye. She knew that he wouldn't stand for too many more questions, but often breakthroughs came out of stress and annoyance, so she continued.

"What is your favorite color?"

"Fuchsia," he answered with an amused sound to his voice.

Laura stopped pacing and faced him. "Frank….if you don't take this situation seriously, I'll never be able to help you? Now…..what is your favorite color?" 

Frank gritted his teeth and refused to look at her. "Red…….blood red," he answered ominously.

Laura stared at the man sitting before her and began to feel slightly uncomfortable. Something in the way he had said "blood" had unsettled her. Had she pushed him too far? Should his reply be taken as some sort of warning to her? Pausing for a few more moments she decided to press on a bit further.

"What is……"

"Who gives a fuck?" he asked her, swiveling his head in order to look her directly in the eyes. "Whatever answer I give you, won't be the correct one, will it? At least according to your file. So who the hell cares?"

"Frank……let's just calm down and……"

"I'm calm. How about you?" Rising from the chair, he slowly walked toward her. "You don't like me very much. Do you…..doctor?" he asked her with an intimidating tone to his voice.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she stood her ground. "Whether I like you or not is irrelevant, Agent Donovan."

Frank smirked at her. "So……now it's Agent Donovan, eh? What happened to Frank?" He chuckled coldly. "I guess that's the real question, isn't it?" It was his turn now to pace, although his eyes never really left her. "Soooooo………tell me……Laura……how long have you been practising?" Looking her boldly up and down, his eyes lingering at certain places on her anatomy more than others. "From the looks of you, it couldn't have been too long. What am I? You're first patient? Second?" 

"I don't think that's……."

"Relevant?" he supplied. He smiled at her slightly. "You already said that. Oh….that's right….we don't believe answers when they're given in this room. Isn't that how this works? Someone asks the same fucking questions repeatedly, and then ignores the answers."

"That's not what I was doing…..Frank," she answered, noting the pleased look on his face when she called him by his first name. "I'm here to help you recover……"

"Yes, yes, yes…..I know. You're here to help me remember who I supposedly was before. But I have a question for you……what if I don't want to go back to being who I was before? Hmmmm?? What if I like being Luis Mendoza? Ever consider that?"

She stared at him for few seconds, weighing her words carefully before replying. "Frank…..how can you choose if you can't remember what you're choosing between?"

Her observation bothered him more than he cared to admit. He whirled away from her, and began to pace once more. "I don't want to answer any more questions for today," he warned her.

"Frank……how about if we both sit down and talk about this."

"No……"

"Frank……let's just……" 

"I said NO!!" he spun around and paced furiously toward her. She saw the look on his face and immediately knew that she'd made a fatal error. She backpedaled away from him until she became trapped against the far wall, his body pinning her there. 

She watched the rage seething in his now almost black eyes, and silently prayed that whatever damage she had done could be repaired. For the moment, however, she was face-to-face with a very dangerous, very pissed off agent. She tried desperately to remain calm, although, on the inside, she was shaking like a leaf. She stared at him wide eyed, waiting to see what he would do next.

His eyes felt like they were penetrating her very soul, and she couldn't look away. His body was pressed securely and intimately against hers, his hands resting on the wall on either side of her face. 

"_Estúpida, estúpida mujer... No tienes ni idea de con qué estás jugando. ¿Sabes lo fácil que me resultaría partirte el cuello?" _[Stupid, stupid woman……you have no idea what you're playing with. Do you know how easy it would be for me to snap your neck?] _ His hand moved then and gently traced the curve of her jaw before lightly skimming down the delicate skin of her throat. As his fingers gently traced the hollow of her neck, he continued. "Pero aún así, que cuello tan encantador resulta. Tu piel.…. como mármol perfectamente pulido y tus labios.…. suculentos.…. deliciosos."_ [But then, what a lovely neck it is. Your skin……like highly polished marble and your lips……succulent…..luscious.] _ His fingers moved yet again, this time tangling in the hair directly behind her ear, his thumb caressing the smooth skin of her cheek. Bringing his face even closer to hers, he spoke once more, just a hair's breadth away from her slightly parted lips. "Únicamente por esas cosas, elijo concederte tu vida. Nunca lo olvides." _[For those things alone, I choose to spare your life. Never forget that_._]

All the while he spoke, his eyes never left hers. His words….his intent was very real, almost malevolent, but his actions spoke otherwise. She tried her best to maintain what little self control she had remaining. Part of her wanted to run from the room screaming for help, but the other part was riveted to the spot, strangely drawn to the man who had just threatened her life.

A few more moments ticked by before he ever so slowly moved away from her, although he still maintained eye contact. She really looked at his eyes and tried desperately to determine his current mood. Something had changed during the last few moments. At first, she had been absolutely sure that she'd pushed him too far, that she'd done irreparable damage, but now……now she wasn't so sure. 

Then something occurred to her……this was a man, who for the last year and a half had maintained his position within the cartel that he'd infiltrated by the use of force and intimidation. He'd reacted just as Luis would have, even speaking in Spanish to further prove the point. When she'd begun to push him further, he'd retaliated by imposing his own authority. Coupled with the fact that she was a woman, he'd used his own more than apparent sensuality to subdue her without really having to resort to violence. On the outside, she had to admire his technique, but on the inside it was taking everything she had not to buckle under his intense scrutiny and intimate contact.

He watched the play of emotions in her eyes, noting the fact that she not only seemed scared by the confrontation, but she also appeared to be……what? Excited by it? Is that what he saw in her eyes? That was an interesting turn of events, and he fought to keep a smirk from gracing his lips. Then without another word, he strode to the door and calmly walked out.

Once he left the room, she let out a breath that she didn't realize that she'd been holding. She moved toward the same chair that he'd been sitting in just minutes earlier, and collapsed into it. How could she explain what just happened to anyone? Of course she could put it all into psychological terms. That wasn't the problem. The problem was her own reaction to it. She was scared certainly. Intrigued…..probably. But underlying it all she was……aroused. She wondered absently to herself what her fellow colleagues would make of that. Sick….twisted……in need of therapy herself. 

She knew what she needed to do. She picked up the phone and began to dial the chief in charge of her division. She needed to have Frank's case assigned to another therapist. But before she finished entering the last number on the keypad, she suddenly stopped….hesitated briefly and then placed the receiver back in its cradle. She couldn't have him reassigned. It would only delay his recovery further, and she couldn't do that to him. **Is that why you're keeping him as one of your patients? **After a few internal arguments, she soon convinced herself that what she was doing was for the best. Or so she hoped.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been so many years since she'd last thought of that incident in her office. She had been scared of him but only for a few minutes. But what happened earlier this evening went far beyond whatever she had felt that day so long ago. Tonight she saw pure rage in Frank's eyes, and it worried her beyond belief. 

She still stood by the door, her hand poised to turn the knob, but she very slowly released her grip and backed away from the door. Now sitting on the side of the bed, she stared at the closed door knowing that her husband was somewhere on the other side of it, but afraid to find out where. 

Sighing sadly, she lay down on the bed and decided to wait for him to return to her, convincing herself once more that it was the stress of the situation that had driven him to the state he was in earlier. 

Many minutes passed and still Frank did not return. As those minutes turned to hours, her eyes began to droop and finally close of their own volition. Exhaustion took over and sleep finally claimed her.

Laura woke with a start sometime close to 7 in the morning. She quickly looked around trying to clear her disorientation. She had fallen asleep at the foot of their bed and that's where she had stayed for the entire night. 

Once again she approached the door, but with the morning light, came a new determination to help her husband fight his demons. She opened the door and quietly made her way to the living room. Stopping in the arched doorway, she was puzzled to find no one there. Turning then, she made her way to the kitchen, sure that she would find him there or on their back porch. 

The kitchen was deserted as well, so she opened the back door and walked outside. Once again she was disappointed that he wasn't there. With her brows furrowed in confusion, she returned to the kitchen. It was there that she spotted something that she hadn't noticed just seconds earlier. 

Approaching one of the kitchen counters, she found a sealed letter. She hesitantly picked it up. She immediately recognized Frank's handwriting on the envelope. It simply said _Laura_ on the outside.

Her hands began to shake before she could even bring herself to open the thing. But finally, after taking a deep breath, she did just that. Unfolding the papers, she began to read.

__

My dearest Laura,

I can only pray that someday you'll forgive me for what I'm about to do. I have no explanation for what happened to you last night, other than to say that whatever fear you felt as a result could only pale in comparison to how I felt knowing that the pain you experienced was inflicted by my own hands. 

You and the children are my world. Please believe that, even if you doubt anything else I might say to you. Before I met you, I believed that my life would be one consumed by work and nothing else, but so many years ago you made me realize that there was so much more that life had to offer. And for that, I am eternally grateful. 

I wish I could explain what is happening to me. Although I'm not 100% sure, I have a feeling that it has something to do with the programming I received some 15 years ago. And if that's the case, then I'm no longer safe to be around. If I would ever hurt you or the children, I would never forgive myself. What happened to you last night will forever tear at my heart, and someday, when I see you again, I'll beg for your forgiveness. 

There's only one man that can give me the answers that I need right now…..the only one that can fully explain what it is that I've been experiencing for the past 24 hours. And once I've contacted him, I'm sure that I won't be returning anytime soon. I wish that I could tell you more, but know that I only keep this from you to protect you from further harm. 

I've left letters for each of the children by their bedsides. Please help them understand that I would have given anything not to leave without saying goodbye, and I apologize for the problems that are sure to arise from my sudden departure. Alicia, I'm sure, will be upset, and Christopher will continue to hate me, as maybe he should. But with your love and the comfort of family and friends, I'm sure that they'll be over it soon enough.

I love you, Laura. I know there may be days ahead when you doubt that, but please believe that it's true. I would have given anything to spare you from all of this, and I can only hope that when this is all said and done, you'll still find it in your heart to forgive and allow me back into your life.

With all my love,

Frank

Laura sank to the floor and felt like the air had just been knocked out of her. She held the letter in her hands and just kept rereading what was written there over and over. _He wouldn't just leave! Not without saying goodbye! _But as she read his words once again, it began to sink in that he had done just that. He was gone. She had no idea where he was or when he would return. 

After sitting on the floor for nearly a half hour, she shakily rose to her feet, wiping away the tears that continued to fall down her face. Her heart was heavy and a sickening feeling invaded every fiber of her being. When she reached for the envelope, with the intention of replacing its contents, she noticed that the envelope felt like it contained something else. Opening her hand, she dumped the contents into the palm of her hand. She stared bleary eyed at what she saw, and the tears began to fall anew. She stared at the object and felt her heart breaking once more. He'd left her his wedding band.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

A/N : Special thanks to Eva for helping me out with the translations for this chapter! 


	8. Regrets and remembrances

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Eight

Frank stared blankly out the window with his chin resting in his hand, recalling the chain of events that led him to where he presently found himself.

After writing the notes for his two children and his wife, he'd slipped very quietly into his bedroom, just long enough to retrieve a change of clothes. He meant to get in and out as quickly as he could, hoping that he wouldn't wake Laura in the interim. But before he turned to leave, he couldn't help but look at her one more time. She'd fallen asleep at the end of the bed, leaving the bedside table lamp on. The soft light was enough for him to see her clearly. He knelt on the floor next to her and could clearly see the remains of her tears still present on her cheeks. He ached to reach out and wipe them away, but he stopped himself knowing that the action would more than likely cause her to awaken. 

His eyes traveled down her neck, shoulders and arms. There he saw the result of his earlier actions and his heart actually hurt. The bruises were already darkening to a sickening purple black color, and knowing that he had been the cause of it……well, it was almost more than he could stand. For a few seconds, he considered waking her and the children and sneaking away someplace to start a new life, a life where the CIA could never reach him. But in the end, he realized that no such place existed, and to ask them to spend the rest of their lives on the run was unthinkable. 

He reached out and placed his hand as close to hers as possible without really touching her and rested his head against the side of the bed. He needed to find the strength to do what he knew needed to be done, and for the past 12 years, Laura had been the source of that strength. Now, doing this without her, was killing him inside and he felt like a lesser man because of it.

As quietly as possible, he slowly rose from the floor and gazed on her once more. He then closed his eyes tightly as if committing the sight to memory and turned to leave the room. Once in the hallway, he quickly went about doing what needed to be done, fearing that if he hesitated much longer, he would give in and stay until Monday. 

He dressed quickly, glanced around the house once more, making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything. He was bringing nothing with him, because he knew that wherever he was going, everything would be provided for him. He approached the front door and put his left hand on the door knob, and immediately froze in his tracks. His wedding ring…….he needed to leave it here, safely with his wife. Walking back toward the kitchen where he'd left the letter for her, he stared down at the shiny gold band around his finger. After he'd come so close to losing her just 18 months ago, Frank had sworn that he would never again take the ring off of his finger. Knowing that this was just one more promise that he was forced to break nearly killed him. 

He slowly worked the band off of his finger and held it silently in the palm of his hand. He couldn't let it go, as if in doing so, he was letting go of his life with the woman that meant more to him than anything. _You can do this! Just put the ring in the envelope and walk away!_ Taking a deep breath, he finally did just that. Steeling his courage, he turned quickly and headed for the front door and never looked back.

Once outside the house, he walked straight toward the black sedan still parked just two houses down. The driver seemed rather startled by his straight-forward approach. Without even hesitating, Frank walked around to the passenger side and got in.

"Take me to Marsh," he commanded of the other agent.

The blond man blinked once or twice and then quickly started up the engine. Within seconds, they were on there way. 

Minutes ticked by and neither man said a word, that is until Frank realized that they weren't headed toward DC. 

"Where are you taking me?" Frank asked with some anxiety in his voice.

"My orders are to take you to Culpeper Regional Airport. From there you'll be taking a private jet."

"I asked you to take me to see Marsh," he informed the agent none too nicely.

"I'm aware of that, and I'm telling you that I have my orders. To the best of my knowledge, Marsh will be awaiting you at your final destination."

Frank thought through what the other agent had just told him. When Marsh had talked to him on Monday, he'd told Frank to meet him in his office on the following Monday. Why would he already be at wherever they were going to eventually take him? _Maybe because he anticipated what would happen to you? _Frank frowned fiercely at what that implied. More than ever now, he was convinced that what had been happening to him had more than a little to do with the programming he'd received so many years ago. _How did he trigger it? Hell….it could have been anything! A few simple words said in the correct order…._ The thought sent a chill down his spine. All of this time, even after so many years, he was still at their mercy. _And you always will be._

It was a little after 6 AM when they finally reached the small airport. The sedan pulled up next to a sleek Gulfstream G400 private jet. Frank frowned slightly as he looked at the aircraft. It was the type that could be used for long distance flying, so he immediately wondered where the hell he was going to end up in the next couple of hours.

As soon as the car parked and the two men exited the vehicle, a flurry of activity began around the plane. Final safety checks were under way, the blocks were taken away from under the wheels and 2 men exited the jet and approached Frank.

"Agent Donovan…..I'm Mike Reynolds," the one man stated, extending his hand in greeting, "and this is Paul Rudyard, he'll be attending you in the cabin. If there's anything you need, please feel free to ask."

"And what exactly is our destination this morning?" Frank asked more than a little curious.

"Miami, sir. We should be there in a couple of hours. Now, if you'll follow me, we'll be on our way."

Frank reluctantly followed the pilot on board. Once inside, he noticed that the interior of the private jet was well appointed…..leather seats…..mahogany tables polished to a brilliant shine. He wondered absently who the jet really belonged to or if it was rented for this occasion in particular. Without being instructed to, Frank found a comfortable seat and made himself comfortable.

Within minutes, the plane had begun to taxi and several minutes after that, they were airborne. _No turning back now._

Now, hours after he'd left his house, Frank was staring sullenly out of the jet's small window, wondering if his wife and children would ever forgive him for what he'd done to them.

As he sat alone on the plane, only occasionally interrupted by the attendant asking if he wanted anything to eat or drink, Frank found his mind flooded with a myriad of memories from his past. The first time he'd been able to ride a two-wheel bicycle by himself…….high school and college graduations…….the day he'd been told that his father had died…….the birth of each of his children…..his wedding. But for some reason, he became fixated on remembering every single detail of the day that he'd asked Laura out on their first date.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__

Almost three years to the day after finishing his therapy with Laura, Frank was about to work with her once again, although this time it would be in an entirely different setting. 

This time they were both working for the FBI. He as a negotiator and she as a profiler. The situation involved a hostage situation in Kansas City. A group of inmates had broken out of a local prison and were holding some fifteen people hostage in a bank. Frank was not the original negotiator assigned to the case, but instead was brought in to replace someone who couldn't get the job done.

On his way to Kansas City, he'd been given a listing for the personnel that he would be working with and was more than a little surprised to see Laura's name listed as part of the team. Since finishing his therapy, he'd had no contact with her and wondered how it would be to work with her in this new situation. Knowing that there was little he could do about it at this point, he decided to make the best of it.

When he finally arrived on site, he was quickly introduced to the members present and was a little disappointed to see that she was not there at the moment. His reaction to her absence shocked him a bit. He thought he'd been feeling apprehensive about their meeting again and was a bit surprised to find that instead he'd been looking forward to it. But quickly the work took over and whatever feelings he had about being there were soon buried under intense negotiations. 

Some six hours later, the members of the team were switching shifts and in walked Laura. Of course, he noticed her immediately but pretended that he didn't, not knowing how she would feel about seeing him again. When they finally did meet again, face to face, Frank was a little confused by her reaction. He'd tried to read her eyes but had a hard time discerning the different emotions that he saw flit across them in just mere seconds. She seemed more shocked than anything else, and he realized that part of the reason for that was due to the fact that he'd cut his hair. During the time that he was working undercover for the CIA, he'd worn his hair shoulder length or longer with a full beard. It was no wonder that she was taken aback by his appearance.

After a few awkward words of greetings, it was time to get down to work. And as it ended up, Frank and Laura needed to spend quite a bit of time together going over inmate profiles, etc. After the first few tense moments, the two fell into a good working rapport, and nothing was mentioned about the previous history that they'd shared. 

The negotiations lasted for almost four days and the outcome was favorable. The hostages were released unharmed and all of the inmates were taken into custody with not even one shot fired. Frank and his team were lauded as heroes and the FBI brass couldn't have been more pleased.

After it was all said and done, there was still paperwork to be filled out and reports to be written and once again Frank and Laura were thrown together to rehash what had happened during the four day stand-off. 

Once the pressure of the case was off, Frank began to notice things that he hadn't initially. Thing like, the smell of the perfume she wore, the way her hair fell in her face when she was intently reading, the way she would absently play with the necklace she wore when she was deep in thought. It distracted, bothered and drew him in all at the same time. 

He knew that he was attracted to her, and had been since the first time that he saw her three years ago, but the timing had been all wrong then and probably still was now. His job meant that he could be called to take off at a moment's notice and that he could be gone for sometimes weeks at a time. His lifestyle made any sort of relationship impossible, but there was something about this woman that made him want to reconsider that.

Late one night when they were still wrapping up the odds and ends of the case, Frank and Laura were the only two left in the building that served as a make-shift command center. They were intently going over report after report trying to put the finishing touches on what would eventually go into the files in DC. One of their reports was a compilation of the profiles that had been used in the negotiation. The two ended up sitting very close together, looking at the report that Laura was preparing on her laptop. The discussion was intense and clear headway was being made until Frank referred to something on the screen, leaning in and pointing to what he was talking about. In that second she had turned her head to look at him more clearly. Something happened then. Time seemed to stand still and the two just stared intently into each other's eyes. A palpable electricity could be felt in the air and the temperature rose a couple of degrees. Neither moved or said anything for several seconds, until the moment was broken by a ringing cell phone. After a few more heartbeats, Frank finally moved away to answer the call. When he was finished, the moment was over and Laura was back to intently finishing the report.

Frank considered saying something to her then, but something in her demeanor had changed radically. She wouldn't meet his gaze for more than a second or two and she seemed to be in a rush to get away from him. Knowing that it was probably for the best, he let it and her go. 

On the last day, after everything had been packed up, the team members were all headed out, loading up cars and on their way to their respective destinations. Frank watched out of the corner of his eye as Laura unceremoniously dumped her belongings in the backseat of her rental before she said goodbye to her teammates, and soon they were the only two left in the parking lot. As he watched her, Frank was waging a war inside of himself as to whether to approach her before she exited his life once more. Finally, without knowing what he was going to say or do, he decided to go for it.

She had just opened her driver's door when he walked up to her. "So….I guess this is it," he said a little nervously.

Laura spun around, caught off guard by his approach. "Um…..yeah, I guess it is. It's….uh….it's been a pleasure working with you again, Frank."

He smiled at her, noticing that she seemed to be as on edge as he was. Was she remembering what had happened three years ago or what had happened between them just the other night? He was silently hoping it was the latter. "Where are you off to now?" he asked, making idle chit chat.

"I actually haven't received a new assignment yet, so I guess I'll just be heading back to Virginia for awhile. You?"

"Not sure yet, but then, I usually don't get more than 24 hours notice before being assigned to a new case."

She nodded. "That makes sense," she replied while she fidgeted a bit. "Well, I guess I may see you from time to time. Who knows, huh? We may be assigned to the same case again."

He more or less ignored her last statements. While she had been fidgeting, she'd pulled out that same necklace and was playing with it again. Something in her movements, the shy way she was talking with him, the way she looked at him through her eyelashes with her head slightly tilted down, all made him want to suddenly take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. 

She noticed the change in his eyes and wondered what was going through his head at that moment. She didn't have to wait long to find out. He reached out and stopped the hand that was playing with the necklace and captured it in his own. Drawing closer to her, effecting pinning her between the open car door and the frame of the car, he opened his hand and looked at the pendant that had been dangling from the fine rope chain. It was a locket, no more than an inch long, made of gold and intricately engraved.

"What is this?" he asked her in a decidedly intimate tone.

She swallowed hard, flustered by his closeness and his sudden interest in something that she valued more than any other piece of jewelry she owned. "It's….ah….a locket. Well I guess you knew that," she added nervously. "There are pictures of my grandparents in there. It belonged to my grandmother and it was given to me when she died nearly twelve years ago."

"It's beautiful," he told her, his eyes meeting hers just as they had before. He let go of her hand then and reached out to lightly skim his fingers across the contour of her cheek. He noticed how her breathing seemed to have increased dramatically, and was silently pleased. "Have dinner with me," he commanded more than asked.

She stared into his eyes and could clearly see that he wanted more than just to share a meal with her. She could feel her pulse increase in response knowing that it was something she had dreamt about for nearly three years now. She hesitated, though. Was she clearly thinking this through? Would getting involved with this man be prudent? After all, their jobs would make any sort of relationship nearly impossible. Nearly……but not totally. Somehow, not even giving it a try seemed like an incredibly bad decision.

She knew that she'd hesitated far too long and saw the disappointment in his eyes as he began to slowly move away from her. "What kind of food do you like?" she asked him suddenly.

His eyes lit up then and a slow smile warmed his face. "Anything…..anything you want is fine with me," he answered, his words tinged with a promise of something more.

She smiled back at him, now eagerly anticipating what she could only hope would be a promising evening. "Let me take these things back to the hotel, and then I'm all yours."

His smile took on a decidedly mischievous appearance and he moved closer to her yet again. He'd been content to let the events of the evening take their own course, but her words stirred something inside him and he couldn't just let it go. "Now that certainly sounds promising," he nearly purred at her.

Her eyes flew open when she realized what she'd said. "I just meant that….."

"I know what you meant," he reassured her. "But a man can fantasize, can't he?" And before she could answer, he did something he'd wanted to do for three years. He kissed her……slowly, tenderly and yet tinged with a promise of things to come. Although it didn't last very long, they were both changed profoundly by that one simple kiss. A line had been crossed. No longer doctor and patient. No longer co-workers or even simply friends. They would be lovers and maybe…….just maybe so much more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank sighed sadly and continued to stare out the window of the jet. He knew that it wouldn't be long before they landed in Miami and dreaded whatever was to come. Why he'd fixated on that particular memory he didn't know, but he swore for just a second that he could still fell her soft lips pressed to his. He glanced at his watch briefly and wondered if she'd found his note yet. She'd be devastated, he knew that. But he would rather have hurt her this way than to risk hurting her or the children physically, just as he had last night. 

His reverie was interrupted by the attendant once more. "Agent Donovan. We'll be landing in about 45 minutes. I've been instructed to tell you that if you have anyone you wish to contact, to do so now. Once on the ground, you'll be restricted from any sort of outside communication." Motioning to the phone built into the table nearby, the man continued. "Please feel free to call whoever you wish." 

Frank nodded in understanding and stared at the phone. Who should he call? The urge was overwhelming to hear Laura's voice once more. He moved closer to the table and picked up the phone, staring intently at the dial. Should he? He'd left letters for Laura and the children. He'd spoken briefly to his mother the previous evening. Was there anyone else to contact? 

He almost replaced the phone in it's cradle, but suddenly pulled it back and began to dial. He needed to talk to her……maybe to try to explain yet again why he needed to leave as he had. 

He listened to the phone ringing on the other end and wondered for a few seconds if she'd taken the children and left. Just as he was about to hang up, she finally answered.

He listened to the sound of her voice and knew instantly why it had taken so long for her to answer. She'd been crying, in fact she still was. He could hear it in her voice, and he felt a part of himself die. He opened his mouth to speak but no words would form. He listened to her for a few seconds more and then finally hung up.

He'd broken her heart just as he knew he would, but somehow actually hearing it in her voice felt like a knife had just been thrust through his heart. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to contain the emotion that threatened to engulf him. In less than 45 minutes, he would be forced to put Laura, the children and anything else good in his life behind him. Perhaps this was the punishment he deserved for all of the sins that he'd committed in his life. He'd been granted a reprieve to live in heaven for a short time, but now…..now he was about to re-enter hell. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__


	9. Next stop hell

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Nine

Frank exited the private jet and eyed his surroundings with some trepidation. They'd landed on a very remote airstrip some miles away from the nearest town, and he wondered, once again, what the hell they had in store for him. His reverie was soon interrupted, however, when a car appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, and headed straight for their location.

Once the vehicle halted, a man stepped out wearing dark sunglasses. He immediately walked up to Frank and stopped.

"Agent Donovan…….Raymond Marsh asked me to meet you here and escort you to the training facility."

"Training facility?" Frank asked hesitantly.

"That's right. Marsh says that you've been out of the game for awhile and would probably be in need of some reorientation."

Frank couldn't help feeling a bit annoyed by the fact that they thought he'd been totally idle for the past 15 years, but before he could say something in return, the man was walking back toward the waiting car and Frank was obviously expected to follow. So with a heavy heart, Frank took one more step away from everything that he held near and dear.

Minutes later, they were speeding down nearly deserted roads toward some unknown destination.

"Is this place very far?" Frank asked.

The driver glanced briefly at Frank and could see the anxiety written all over his face and smiled slightly. "Nah…..half hour….45 minutes tops. Just sit back and enjoy the scenery."

__

Enjoy the scenery…like this is some sort of vacation or something! Frank gazed out the window at the landscape speeding by him. The surroundings were nondescript. Mostly flat land, the occasional stand of palm trees. As the scenery whipped by him, Frank's mind began to wander. He wondered what this so-called reorientation would be like. For some odd reason, he remembered very little about his previous indoctrinations. What he could recall was endless hours of weapons drills, maneuver exercises and, of course, hour upon hour of memorization. But before he could delve into it in depth, the car finally slowed and pulled into a gravel drive that appeared to stretch to the horizon. However, a short time later, they finally stopped in front of what appeared to be an old warehouse of some sort. 

Frank slowly exited the car and surveyed the area. Although it appeared to be deserted, he didn't need to be told that dozens of agents were probably keeping watch at that very second. Wherever the CIA ran operations, security was always tight. 

Again without a word to him, the other agent walked toward the building without telling Frank to follow. Sighing in exasperation, he walked behind the other man. Once inside, it took Frank's eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light of the interior. What he saw was a room full of endless banks of video surveillance screens, and computers. What he didn't see was any personnel. There had to have been thirty or more screens and no one to watch what they captured. _Who the hell's running this operation?_

"This way," the other man threw over his shoulder as he made his way toward a hallway running off of the main room. Glancing left and right at the surveillance screens, curious as to what they were covering, Frank reluctantly followed.

A few twists and turns down, he was finally shown into a room that appeared to have been made over into a make-shift office of sorts.

"Make yourself comfortable. Marsh will be in any minute." And without any further fanfare, the man closed the door behind him and was gone.

Frank took the opportunity to do a little reconnaissance. While he was left alone, he quickly looked through any and all papers that were left out on the desk, and even took a crack at accessing files on the PC that was also in the room. After ten minutes or so, however, he ceased his activities, sure that Marsh would appear at any second and probably wouldn't take kindly to having his belongings rifled through. And sure enough, not two minutes later, the man himself finally made an appearance.

"Frank….it's nice to see you again," Marsh began as he entered the door. "I hope you had a pleasant flight down."

Frank stared at him with something close to a look of disbelief plastered to his face. Did the man seriously think that he would enjoy any part of this? He'd been recruited [blackmailed] to do another job for the CIA, and he was treating him like he'd just flown in for some sort of meeting.

Taking a seat behind the desk, Marsh eyed Frank for a second or more before continuing. "You think I'm a cold-hearted bastard, don't you?"

Without a second's hesitation, Frank replied, "That pretty much sums it up."

Marsh grinned. "Honestly Frank, I don't give a shit what you think of me. Let me spell this out for you, so that we'll be on the same page. You owe us, Frank. Plain and simple. Do you have any idea how much time, effort and money was put into your training for the CIA?" he asked, but before Frank could respond, he continued. "We expected to get many more years out of our investment before you left. Granted we agreed to your leaving but it was not without certain stipulations. The most important of which was that you would be available to us as needed."

At this point Frank was seething. His jaw was clenched and his eyes had narrowed to slits. "Now listen here, you son-of-a-bitch……."

"No. I suggest you listen," Marsh interrupted. "You were the one who chose to get married….have a family…..try to live something that resembles a normal life. The one very important detail that you forgot, was that you belong to us, from now until the day you die!"

Frank was beyond livid. Standing now, his hands clenched at his sides, he leaned across the desk in order to drive home his next statements. "Fuck the CIA….fuck this job and most importantly…..fuck you!" Then he spun around and headed for the door.

Through all of Frank's bravado, Marsh had not moved a muscle. He waited till Frank reached the door before he said in an eerily calm voice, "So I hear that your wife and kids are heading to Chicago soon."

Frank stopped dead in his tracks, and felt as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head, effectively dampening the rage that was boiling over inside of him. He slowly pivoted his head to look at the man that he hated more he had ever thought possible. "What did you just say?" he asked through nearly clenched teeth.

A sickening smile spread over Marsh's face. "I thought it might be necessary to remind you why you agreed to do this assignment." He paused momentarily, letting his words sink in before continuing. "I've seen pictures of your family, Frank. I really would hate to see anything happen to them. Wouldn't you?"

Trembling now, it was taking everything he had not to launch himself across the desk and snuff the life out of the abomination that sat there. "I'm only going to say this once…..touch my family and I swear to God and all that's holy, that I will personally rip your throat out with my bare hands."

The smile on Marsh's face brightened considerably at the threat. "Now _that's _the man that we need for this job." 

Frank's expression changed from blinding anger to confusion in a split second. "What the hell?!"

"Frank….Frank…..Frank…..has it really been that long ago? Do you remember nothing of your life as Luis Mendoza? You were ruthless……quick to anger…….and as cold-hearted as you claim that I am."

The thought that he had been anything even remotely like Raymond Marsh was sickening him beyond belief, but before Frank had a chance to respond, Marsh continued.

"Don't worry Frank, it will all come back to you. With a bit of reconditioning, you'll be back to your old merciless self."

Frank wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from that room. Just being close to the man made his skin crawl, almost as if the evil that he knew resided within the man's carcass could be transmitted to him through the air. But he knew that at least for the moment, he would be forced to deal with him. "So how long is this reconditioning going to take?" he asked reluctantly.

"That….is entirely up to you. The more cooperative and open you are, the quicker we'll have you on your way to your actual assignment."

"So in other words, be a good guinea pig and I'll get out of my cage sooner."

Marsh chuckled at the comparison. "Something like that. Now…..I'll show you to where you'll be staying while you are here. It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll have everything you need for your….transition."

Frank winced slightly at the word "transition". Suddenly he felt like some sort of modern day version of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. He just hoped that when all was said and done and this damned assignment was over, he'd be able to still tell the difference between the two.

He followed Marsh out of the office and back through what he assumed was some sort of control center.

"As you can see," Marsh explained, sweeping his hand through the empty room, "we're not quite ready to begin. You came to us a bit sooner than we had originally anticipated. But don't worry…..all the necessary personnel will be in place by tomorrow morning and then we can begin."

Frank didn't reply. He simply looked around the room once more, trying to picture what in the hell they were going to do with so many computers and monitors, most of which were not yet functioning.

Once again outside, Marsh led Frank to a smaller building behind the larger one that they had just exited. Again, it gave the appearance of having been abandoned long ago, but somehow Frank believed that it was all for show. Once inside, he knew that he was correct. While the outside gave the appearance of being neglected, the interior was impeccably clean and almost sterile. 

The closest thing that Frank could think to compare this other building to, was some sort of military barracks, but once again, the building appeared to be deserted. Off of the main room, which appeared to double as both kitchen area and lounge, there was a hallway that led to smaller rooms. Some sort of quarters, Frank surmised. Near the end of the hall, Marsh finally stopped and opened one of the doors. 

Once inside the smaller room, Frank looked around in disbelief. The room was fully furnished and almost had a homey quality to it, as if someone had been living there for months or even years. As he looked at his surroundings, Frank was suddenly struck by the familiarity of it all. The place reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly.

Meanwhile, Marsh stood back and watched Frank walk slowly around the room, stopping now and again to look more closely at something. At that moment, Marsh very much looked like a man awaiting a reaction of some sort. When none was forthcoming, he turned as if to leave.

"As I told you, Frank, come tomorrow morning, we'll begin. But for the rest of today, I suggest that you familiarize yourself with the file on the table near the bed. In it, you'll find the "activities" of one Luis Mendoza since he left Colombia 15 years ago."

Frank walked over to the table and picked up the rather hefty file that Marsh had referred to and gave it a cursory glance, but what little he saw amazed him. The details that had gone into the profile were remarkable. He knew that he would have his work cut out for him just in having to memorize all of the facts that he found there.

Marsh again waited for some sort of response, but received none. "Oh….and just a couple of other things. First, the kitchen area is fully stocked with anything you might need. Second, I'm afraid the air conditioning system isn't working properly, so it may get a bit warm in here during your stay. We've tried to have it fixed, but it looks like the whole system will need to be replaced. And lastly……come sun up, you will answer to the name of Luis Mendoza. From tomorrow morning on, Frank Donovan will cease to exist. Understood?"

Frank looked the man directly in the eye, took a deep breath and simply nodded in reply. He knew it would happen, just as it had before. Once the assimilation began, recruits were only referred to by their new personae. 

With one final look, Marsh turned heel and left, shutting the door tightly behind him. A few seconds later, Frank could clearly hear the sound of the outside door open and then shut. 

Once alone in the room, Frank suddenly got the overwhelming feeling that he was being shut away in a prison. Effectively, he knew that it was the closest thing to it. 

For the moment, he abandoned the file, and looked around the room once more. What was it that made it look so familiar? Was it the color? Some sort of arrangement of the furniture? He shook his head in frustration, when the answers wouldn't come to him. 

Forgoing his "homework" for the moment, he went out into the hallway and back toward the main room. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was already the afternoon. Having skipped breakfast as he hastily departed his home, and only taking something to drink on the plane ride down, Frank realized that he was hungry. 

Walking into the kitchen area, he investigated whether the place was as well stocked as Marsh had implied. After rummaging through the cabinets and then the refrigerator, he realized that Marsh had indeed spoken the truth. There was easily enough there to feed him for several weeks. Dismissing that last thought, he set about making himself a simple meal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, Frank was busily going through the file that had been provided for him. Just as he had originally thought, the details presented were more than impressive. As he read through page after page, he couldn't help but appreciate the time and effort that had been put forth to complete such a monumental task. Seemingly every month that had lapsed since his departure from Colombia some 15 years ago was accounted for. Where he had supposedly been….who he had worked for or with…..addresses….phone numbers….friends……everything in perfect detail. And just as he had originally suspected, he had quite a lot of memorization to get down before even considering stepping foot back in the country.

Setting the file aside, he stretched his tired muscles and scrubbed his hands over his face. Memorizing the details in the file was tedious but necessary. He knew it was the key to making this mission successful.

Standing up from where he had situated himself on the bed, he stretched once again. Marsh had been right, the room had gotten hotter as the day had gone on, and he was thankful for the fact that he wasn't undertaking this mission in the middle of the blistering hot summer. Still, the air was dense and easily 80 degrees or more. Reaching down, he grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head, trying to cool down a bit. 

He decided to take another small break, hoping to clear his mind a bit before tackling the never-ending file once more. He again went into the lounge area, but this time, he went to the front door, hoping to take a brief look outside. As he had his hand on the knob, he wondered for a second if he would find it locked. However, with a twist of his wrist, it opened easily.

Stepping outside, he was rewarded with a gentle breeze, which did much to cool the light sheen of sweat that covered his body. He closed his eyes and leaned against the outer wall of the building. He realized suddenly how very tired he was, and remembered that he'd gotten no sleep at all the night before.

As the thought crossed through his weary mind, he couldn't help but recall the events of the night before. Laura…… He wondered where she was, what she was doing. How had she managed to tell the children about his sudden departure and would all three of them ever be able to forgive him? He took a deep breath trying to calm the turmoil that was inside him. As much as he wanted to worry about what was happening at home, he knew that at this moment, his focus needed to be on the upcoming mission. Marsh had said that the more he cooperated and accepted the inevitable, the sooner this would be over.

As he pushed thoughts of his family aside, the conversation that he'd had earlier with Marsh came tumbling back. He had the overwhelming feeling that the whole exchange had been orchestrated. Marsh had pushed all of the right buttons in order to get a near violent reaction out of him and then sat there and gloated when his performing monkey did just as expected. Did they really know him well enough to manipulate him so easily? The idea made him shudder even in the still balmy Florida sun. 

With his eyes still closed, he leaned his head back against the concrete wall. Come the morning, the real training would begin. Without being able to remember all of the steps involved, he had started to become a little anxious about it all. He breathed deeply trying to relax in the hopes that his mind would clear and some of what he thought was forgotten would come back to him.

As he stood there, his body slowly relaxing, the breeze lazily lapping at his naked torso, brief images began to float through his mind. He could picture close quarter drills through endless hallways and streets, gun drawn, expecting that around the next corner, his mortal enemy lie in wait. Endless days of study….learning all about the man that he would become. And something else……something that lay just out of sight. He swore that if he reached out his hand he could almost touch what was hidden in the murky shadows of his failing memory, but still it eluded him. Then…..just as he had been about to give up on it, and go back inside to pour through the facts and details that would become his life, it came to him. A few flashing images…….

His eyes flew open and he looked around as if nothing looked familiar to him. Startled from a near dream state, he felt his pulse racing and he heard the blood thundering through his ears. Lucia….she was the key to it. In those brief flashes of remembrance, he'd seen the two of them….together….just as he'd dreamt about her the other morning. 

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. What was it about this woman that she held such power over him? How did she fit into all of this so-called conditioning? 

He had so many questions and damned few answers. And if he were honest with himself, he didn't really want to know. Shaking his head almost violently, he tried to clear his mind of the disturbing thoughts and try to concentrate on the task at hand, and that was to commit to memory most, if not all, of what the file contained. So without further thought, he reentered the building, hoping to shut out the unpleasant memories as he engaged the lock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While Frank was taking a trip down memory lane, two figures sat in front of the seemingly endless rows of video monitors back in the main building. One such monitor gave a perfect view of Frank as he stood outside the smaller building.

"Hmmmm……..I must say, he has certainly taken care of that delicious body since I last laid hands on it," the silky voice practically purred.

"Lucia…..patience…….patience. Soon enough you'll get a chance to have your fun."

The dark haired woman turned to her companion. "Promise me, Raymond. Promise me or I walk out of that door right now."

Raymond Marsh turned to look into her honey colored eyes and tried to repress a shiver of revulsion. Beautiful though she was, Lucia Cortez was lethal, in every sense of the word. Lethal….but necessary. "Of course, my dear, and I always keep my promises."

She turned back to the screen and her eyes raked over the vision of the man displayed there, an almost lecherous smile curving her blood red lips. 

Marsh watched her intently, and for the first time in his career, he actually felt somewhat sorry for one of the agents assigned to his care. Frank Donovan was a very unlucky man…….very unlucky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	10. Getting down to work

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Ten

Laura curled up in her favorite rocker on the back porch and stared blankly out at the yard. She'd just spent the better part of two hours trying to coax her two upset children to sleep, and she was now physically, as well as mentally, exhausted. Alicia had cried almost incessantly for her father until she finally wore herself out, and Christopher….well Christopher still insisted on being pissed at the entire world, and unfortunately she and Alicia existed in that world at the moment, which meant everything that they did or said angered him even further, if that were possible. 

Laura, herself, still felt like she was walking around in some sort of fog. From the moment she woke up this morning until this very second, she felt like her whole world had been turned upside down. She knew that Frank was going to be leaving, and she thought that she'd been doing pretty well in preparing herself for that. But when she woke in the morning and found that he'd left with only a note explaining his actions, she felt like she'd just had the wind knocked out of her. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the rocker. She wanted so much to give into an almost overwhelming desire to break down and cry again, but she knew that now, more than ever, she needed to find a way to hold it all together. She was a firm believer that children fed off of the feelings that surrounded them. If she allowed herself to wallow in the heartbreak then they would more than likely do the same. But still……..

The screen door opened slowly and a figure moved toward her cautiously. Laura opened her eyes then and turned to look at who approached her. A small smile graced her lips when she realized that it was Frank's mother, Maria.

"Are they still asleep?" Laura asked quietly.

Maria crossed to one of the other chairs and sat down. "I think they'll both sleep through the night. It's been an exhausting day for them."

Laura nodded sadly, and was genuinely glad that her mother-in-law was there to help out. When she called her earlier that morning, Maria had dropped everything to come to Laura's aid, just as Laura knew she would.

"How do you do it?" Laura asked her.

Maria smiled. "Do you mean, how do I keep from worrying myself to death?"

"Uh huh. All these years…..everything that Frank's been through……and here you sit, looking as if you don't have a care in the world," she told her with a hint of awe in her voice.

Maria sighed and looked at the woman who had become a daughter to her not only in name but in her heart as well. "Laura……all I can say is that I trust Frank. I know that he'll do the best that he can to come back to us in one piece. That doesn't mean that I don't worry. It just means that I decide to put my faith in the good man I know my son to be."

Laura shook her head. "I have faith too, but this time……this time there are different forces at work. In the past, he chose to become a part of the missions presented to him, but now he's being forced back into a life he left behind a long time ago." She paused to look out at the tranquil back yard, her eyes losing focus as she was caught up in the whirlwind of emotion inside of her. She was angry…..heartbroken….. and scared beyond belief. "It was different before. He only had himself to worry about….to answer to. What if he's forced into a situation that compromises the man that he is now?" 

Maria looked thoughtfully at the woman who sat across from her. "You have to trust him to do the right thing, Laura."

Laura turned to look at her mother-in-law. "I _do_ trust Frank……implicitly. The problem is Luis Mendoza. I remember _him_ all too well. He's ruthless, cold-hearted, manipulative…..all of the things that Frank isn't. What if……what if while he's there, he does something……" Laura couldn't finish as the tears began to form in her eyes once more.

Maria leaned forward and took Laura's hand in her own. "I wish that I could tell you not to worry. I wish that I could tell you that everything will be all right. All I know is that in order to get through this, I choose to believe that Frank will always do what's right. I _believe_ that, Laura. I always have."

Laura held Maria's hand a little tighter and gave her a sad smile in return. Maybe it was a blind spot that all mothers had that made them refuse to believe that their children would ever be capable of committing heinous crimes. She didn't have the heart to fill Maria in on all of the questionable activities that her son had been involved in over the years. "I know…..I know. You have no idea how much I want to believe that too." Still holding Maria's hand, Laura laid her back against the rocker and stared up at the stars that had just become visible. 

"Why don't you go inside and try to get some rest. I'll wait up a while to make sure the kids are settled in," Maria told her, sensing her fatigue.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Laura asked tiredly.

"That's why I'm here, sweetheart."

Laura smiled at Maria once more and then slowly stood in order to make her way to her bedroom, pausing briefly to place a gentle kiss on her mother-in-law's cheek. "I'm so glad that you're here," she whispered to her.

"Sleep well, and don't worry about the children. If they wake up in the middle of the night, I'll take care of them. You need to get some rest."

"Thank you," Laura replied one final time before entering the house.

Maria waited until she heard the door shut soundly behind her, before letting out a disturbed sigh. She wasn't quite as naïve as she led Laura to believe. Although she hadn't been privy to many of the details of Frank's past CIA endeavors, she still had a fairly good idea what her son had been up to so many years ago. _Please Frank…..come home soon. If you could only see how this is ripping your family apart. _Sighing once more, she rose from her chair and entered the house to check on the children before heading to bed herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Frank woke sometime right before dawn. His first thought upon awakening was that he was glad that no other "dreams" had interrupted his sleep. After the brief flashes of memory that he'd had the previous afternoon, he was a bit apprehensive about what that experience would bring. When nothing occurred, he felt somewhat more relaxed about the upcoming day's activities. Today, he was scheduled to begin his reorientation in earnest. 

Rising from the bed, he walked to the closet across the room, and just as he had suspected, he found all of the clothing that he would need. Choosing what he would wear that day, he laid the clothes out on the bed and entered the adjoining bathroom to shower. 

Twenty minutes or so later, he emerged from the still steamy room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. As he towel dried his hair, he took the opportunity to peruse the case file once more, attempting to retain as many of the facts that he found there as he could.

Before dressing, he heard a faint knock on the door. Without turning around, he called for whoever was there to enter.

He heard the door open and nothing else. He looked over his shoulder expecting to see one of Marsh's minions standing there, but instead he was faced with a girl of no more than 20 years, timidly holding a tray full of food.

When Frank turned more fully in her direction, she quickly averted her eyes, clearly embarrassed at having found him in such a state of undress.

He took a moment to study her. She was young, of some sort of Spanish heritage with long, straight, almost black hair, and, as he first surmised, rather timid. 

"Hello?" he began carefully, bending slightly in order to get a better look at her eyes.

With her head still hung, she returned in a shy voice, "Hola, señor. El señor Marsh me pidió que le trajese el desayuno." [Hello, sir. Mr. Marsh asked that I bring your breakfast to you.] 

"Gracias," he answered her, more than a little confused by her presence there. Why would Marsh have some young girl serve him a meal? Clearly she was not an agent, so what explanation could there be? "Por favor... puede poner la bandeja en la mesa que hay junto a la cama." [Please……you can put the tray on the table next to the bed.]

She nodded her head slightly and then moved to deposit the tray where she had been instructed. As she did so, Frank still stared after her. Her being there was an enigma…..a puzzle of sorts. 

"¿Qué es su nombre?" [What is your name?]

At first she seemed puzzled by his question, almost as if the answer mattered very little. Then with a quick glance up at his face, careful to avoid looking at any other part of his nearly naked body, she replied quietly, "Nina."

"Gracias, Nina, por traerme el desayuno. Mi nombre es... Luis," [Thank you, Nina, for bringing my breakfast to me. May name is……Luis], he told her, almost forgetting to go by his new given name.

Again she nodded, but this time she looked into his eyes for at least 2 seconds before dropping her eyes to the floor once more.

"¿Necesita algo más?" [Do you require anything else?] she inquired, obviously not comfortable in his presence.

Although he had a thousand questions he would have liked to ask her, he sensed her anxiety and decided to let her go. "No... gracias, Nina." [No….thank you, Nina.]

Without another word or sound, she quickly made her exit, closing the door almost silently behind her.

Frank stared after her, puzzled by her presence there. After a few more moments, he finally returned his attention to the work at hand, momentarily forgetting the young woman.

After eating and dressing, Frank made his way toward the common area of the building. He was as ready for the events of the day as he'd ever be. So now he went in search of where it would all begin. Before he even made it halfway through the room, the main door opened. Marsh and another man that Frank had never seen before entered. 

Frank took a few seconds to study the new person. Military….his whole personae screamed military, from the shine on his boots to the severe crew cut he wore. The only thing missing was the fatigues.

"Luis….this is Steven Varner. He'll be in charge of the exercises that you'll be going through in the next week or so."

Frank nodded his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing.

"I trust you slept well," Marsh asked him.

Frank frowned slightly at the half-asked question. Was Marsh faking concern over his well-being because of this stranger's presence? Again, he merely nodded.

The two men exchanged a quick look before Varner stepped forward. " A man of few words, eh?" Again he received no verbal response, so he continued. "Good. That can be handy out in the field."

"Mr. Varner," Frank finally spoke up, "I don't know how much of my past you're familiar with, but this _isn't_ my first assignment. I've been, as you say, out in the field, dozens of times. So if you don't mind, let's cut the crap and get down to work."

Varner turned once again to look at Marsh before responding, "Fine…..but let's get one thing straight……you follow my orders implicitly. You wanna play bad ass? Fine, as long as you do what I say when I say to do it."

Frank glared at the man before him, but chose once again to say nothing. He knew that whatever he would be subjected to in the next week or two was necessary and if he had to put up with Steven Varner in order to get through it, then so be it. 

"This afternoon you report to me in the field to the south of here. You'll find all the gear you'll need……weapon, Kevlar vest, etc…..in the cabinet to your left." Varner turned to leave then, but paused briefly before doing so. "May I suggest that you leave your attitude here before then." And with that he turned heal and left.

"That went well," Marsh piped in, secretly rejoicing in the exchange between the two men. Steven Varner had been picked for the exact reason that he'd just witnessed. Marsh knew that Varner would push Frank to his limits, and possibly beyond, which is exactly where Marsh needed him to be.

"I meant it, Marsh. Let's cut the crap and get down to business. I don't want to be here, but I'm here just the same. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get started so that I can get out of here as soon as possible."

Marsh had started to head for the door, but when Frank's recitation began he stopped and turned to look at his agent. "Are you finished? Or do you want to whine a little more before we get started?" Marsh asked snidely.

Frank clenched his teeth tightly, but kept his mouth shut. There were ten thousand things he could think to say in reply, but they would only waste time in the process.

Marsh couldn't help but appreciate the amazing self control that Frank was currently exhibiting, but didn't dare comment on it. So without another word he turned to once again head for the door with Frank reluctantly following. When he reached the entryway and opened the door, he suddenly asked a question from out of the blue. 

"So, Luis….what did you find on my desk yesterday?"

Frank stopped short of following and stared at the man's back. He should have known there was some sort of surveillance in the room, as there probably was throughout the whole compound, but he was still caught off guard by the question. 

Marsh didn't stop, but continued through the door and into the open air. When he finally heard Frank open the door and follow, he once again asked, "So….what did you find?"

Without commenting on how he'd been found out, Frank simply answered. "Papers, files, a computer."

"Don't be an ass, Luis. I'm asking what you found there. As in, what information," Marsh commented without losing stride.

Frank sighed heavily, again trying to keep his temper, and reluctantly answered. "I didn't find much. Training schedules…..flight manifests to Colombia and Bolivia……names of personnel."

"And?"

"It was all fake," Frank answered simply.

It was Marsh's turn to stop. "What makes you so sure about that?" he asked curiously.

"First off, if it was anything important, I'm sure that you wouldn't have left it out in plain sight. Second, the schedules overlapped….times didn't coincide. And lastly, the names on the papers……most were names of individuals who died years ago and as per CIA policy, personnel names are never printed out on paper where they could be easily snatched up."

Marsh gave Frank a smug grin. "So…..maybe you haven't been out of the loop too long. This may not take as long as anticipated."

"My first test, I'm assuming," Frank commented.

"Something like that," Marsh answered simply before turning and continuing his way to the main building. Frank took a deep breath and followed.

  
After several hours with Marsh going over detail after tedious detail of Luis Mendoza's life and recent activities, Frank was finally allowed some free time to eat and prepare himself for what the afternoon would bring. As he sat alone in the kitchen area of the barracks, finishing off the sandwich that he'd made himself, his thoughts began to stray. He wondered briefly how Laura and the children were doing, but he refused to let himself linger in that direction. He missed them….terribly, but he needed to keep his mind focused on the work at hand. No, instead his thoughts turned to other details of this odd incarceration of sorts. He was still puzzled by the presence of the girl who had brought his breakfast earlier that morning. What part did she play in all of this? Since she left his room earlier that morning, he hadn't seen her. Was she just another pawn in Raymond Marsh's twisted game? That thought alone disturbed him. The girl seemed so young, so innocent, and the thought that she was somehow being manipulated into something she couldn't even fathom, upset him.

However, he had very little time to dwell on thoughts such as that. Soon after lunch, he found Varner exactly where he said he would be, and for the next 8 hours he was subjected to drill after drill. Some involved weapons, others were simply elaborate games of cat and mouse. And although Frank performed admirably through out it all, he still felt that he had a lot to improve upon. 

It was well after 9:00 before he was allowed to head back to the room he'd been assigned to. He was hot and sweaty after an afternoon of exercises in the muggy Florida sunshine, and he could think of nothing better than taking a refreshing shower and relaxing for the rest of the evening. His body ached, and his mind was swimming in all of the details of Luis Mendoza's life.

As he reached his room, he stopped suddenly when he saw that Marsh was waiting there for him.

"What the hell do you want?" Frank asked tiredly.

Marsh smiled thinly. "I was just curious how your first day in training went."

Frank brushed past the man. "As if you don't know," Frank responded coldly. "Don't tell me your surveillance cameras all failed."

Marsh suppressed a chuckle. "Point taken."

"So tell me why you're really here," Frank instructed while he peeled off first the vest and then the shirt he wore underneath. 

"Always to the point, Luis……an admirable quality. Actually, I thought you might be interested in reacquainting yourself with an old friend."

Frank stopped his movements and turned his head to stare at the man. "Old friend? Who the hell are you talking about?" Frank asked confused. 

"I think he's talking about me," a silky voice responded from the still open doorway.

Frank had been standing with his back to the entry, but when he heard a sultry woman's voice, the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he froze. Trying desperately to remain calm, he slowly turned around to see the object of his recent dreams/visions standing in the doorway. Lucia. He'd been silently praying that she wasn't real….that somehow his warped, stress-filled mind had conjured her up, but there she stood, in all her sexually charged, voluptuous glory, and Frank's blood ran cold at the sight of her.

When he didn't immediately respond to her, she sashayed into the room and approached him, noting that his eyes roamed her body as if of their own free will. "What? No words of welcome, Luis?" she pouted for effect.

No words would come to him, his throat suddenly dry and parched. He felt helpless to do little more than stare at her wide-eyed.

She stopped only when she was standing no more than a foot away from him. "Have you missed me?" she asked in a low, intimate voice, a slight smile tilting her full lips.

"Who….who the hell are you?" Frank finally managed to ask. Even though she was familiar to him, he still had no idea how she fit into all of this.

"Ohhhh…..I'm so disappointed, Luis. How could you forget me?" she asked in a sickeningly hurt voice. "We made such a great team, you and I….." She paused to step even closer to him. Laying a well-manicured hand upon his bare chest, she rose up on her toes and added in an intimate whisper, "……in and out of bed." 

That seemed to snap Frank out of his hormone induced rapture. He snatched her hand away from his chest and stepped away from her. "Get the hell away from me," he nearly hissed at her. 

"Luis…." she began as she attempted to approach him once again.

"NO! I said get the hell away from me!" he ordered as he took even more steps in the opposite direction.

Marsh witnessed the exchange and knew that tonight was not the night for any further….engagement……between the two. "That's enough, Lucia. Luis has had a hard day. I think it's time for him to get some rest."

Lucia shot Marsh an evil glance, but quickly calmed when she saw that he meant business. She would just have to bide her time till a more opportune moment presented itself.

"Perhaps another time _would _be better," she offered. Smiling at Frank once more, mustering up all of the sex appeal that she could, she added. "I look forward to spending more time together, Luis. Perhaps without other prying eyes about. After all, we have so much to catch up on."

Frank stared at her with a look akin to disgust. He wanted nothing more to do with her, and yet……. He watched her leave and felt an overwhelming sense of relief when she was no longer in sight. He turned then to look at Marsh, trying to gauge the man's reaction to what had just transpired, but was having difficulty reading what he saw in the other man's eyes. Amusement? Keen interest? 

"What the hell was that all about?" Frank finally asked, although part of him really didn't want to know.

Marsh looked down at the floor before answering. "You'll know soon enough," was all he said.

Before Frank had a chance to say anything further, two men in lab coats walked into the room carrying some sort of equipment.

Knowing what Frank's next question would be, Marsh quickly jumped in with the answer. "This," he indicated, pointing to the items that the men were carrying, "is part of an experiment we'd like to conduct."

"I'm not your God damned guinea pig, Marsh!"

"I know that. Let me explain. It's a documented fact that people who have multiple personalities have different brain wave patterns depending on which personality is dominate at the moment. What we'd like to find out, is if the same holds true for agents undergoing indoctrination. Obviously we can't hook these sensors up to you during the day when you're active, but with your permission, we'd like to do so at night while you sleep."

Frank looked at Marsh like he'd just grown two heads. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"No…..it's very true. If these sensors are applied correctly, you'll never know that they're there."

Frank shook his head in exasperation and walked away from the three men. It was bad enough that he'd been yanked away from his life and forced into a mission he didn't want to do, but now they wanted to subject him to some sort of weird science experiment. Tired…..flustered by the encounter with Lucia just moments earlier, Frank relented. "Fine…whatever…..but at least let me get a shower first and then you can hook me up to whatever."

"Wonderful," Marsh said, before walking toward the door. "I'll see you in the morning." Frank waved him away as if dismissing him and stepped into the bathroom closing the door noisily behind him. 

When Marsh heard the water of the shower turn on, he turned to the two technicians. "Do you understand your orders?"

"Yes, sir," the one answered. "We're to monitor Agent Donovan's sleep patterns and apply a low level of electric current whenever he shows signs of slipping into REM sleep."

"Exactly. It's extreme, but necessary in this case. We don't have the time necessary to go through all of the programming necessary, and the sooner he breaks, the sooner we'll have Luis Mendoza back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	11. Crumbling Walls

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Eleven

A shadowy figure crept into Frank Donovan's nearly pitch black room an hour or so before the sun had a chance to rise above the horizon. Once inside, the individual stopped momentarily in order for their eyes to adjust to the near darkness. After pausing several heartbeats longer, the intruder finally moved closer to the bed and hesitated yet again. 

Before the person had a chance to do anything further, Frank suddenly shot out of bed, grabbing the individual by the arms and slamming them up against the closest wall. An audible gasp escaped the stranger's lips before Frank had a chance to quickly flip on the bedside lamp.

Shielding his eyes from the nearly blinding glare, Frank stared into the face of an incredibly frightened Nina. Her eyes were wide with fear and her chest heaved with each labored breath. His own erratic heartbeat still beat wildly in his chest as he hung his head and exhaled forcibly.

"Jesus…..Nina…..don't ever do that again," he warned her, feeling a bit guilty at how he had manhandled her in the process. Releasing her arms, he pulled back and noticed that she was still plastered against the wall and shaking uncontrollably. 

"It's OK, Nina……I swear that I won't hurt you. Just please…..don't ever sneak into my room in the middle of the night. Especially now…..with training in progress." He tried to explain it all to her in as calm a voice as he could muster.

Now that his heart rate and breathing were returning to normal, he noticed the sensors that were still attached to his scalp from the so-called experiment and roughly pulled them off. He walked back over to his bed and sat down, leaning his forearms on his legs and burying his face in his hands. If it were possible, he felt even more tired than he had just the night before or the night before that. Running his hands through his tousled hair, he once again looked up at the young woman who still stood like a stone against the wall. He saw the tears in her eyes as she eyed him warily.

He sighed heavily as he looked at her. "Nina…..I said that I wouldn't……" He stopped then, realizing that he was speaking English and not her native Spanish. "Nina….dije que no le lastimaría. Usted me asustó. Estoy muy apesadumbrado si le lastimo." [Nina…..I said that I wouldn't hurt you. You startled me, that's all. I'm very sorry if I hurt you.] He watched her take in the words a little at a time, and after a few moments, she appeared to relax somewhat, although her eyes still told him that she didn't entirely trust him still. "¿Por favor…..puede usted perdonarme?" [Please……can you forgive me?]

She paused for awhile as though she were considering his plea, and then finally nodded her head. Frank smiled sadly at her, realizing that she had no reason at all to trust him.

Sensing that the awkward moment was behind them, Frank asked, "¿Por qué está usted aquí?" [Why are you here?]

She still eyed him cautiously, but she slowly peeled herself away from the concrete wall. "Sr. Marsh preguntó que le despierto temprano esta mañana." [Mr. Marsh asked that I wake you early this morning.]

Frank nodded in understanding. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he squinted his eyes, sure that he was reading the numbers wrong. "4:00? Good God…..what the hell are we going to be doing at 4:00?" he mumbled to himself.

"Puedo traerle algo comer," [I…..I can bring you something to eat.] Nina volunteered.

He smiled tiredly at her, noticing for the first time that she looked just as fatigued as he felt. "Ningún gracias, Nina. Encontraré algo para me después de que me bañe." [No….thank you, Nina. I'll find something for myself after I shower.]

She nodded her head then and without another word, quickly made for the exit. He stared after her. Yet again, he wondered what part she played in all of this. For the past few days, she had brought his breakfast each morning before politely excusing herself, not to be seen until the next day. He wondered absently where she disappeared to as soon as her duties were completed. Once more he brought his hands up and scrubbed them almost fiercely across his face. 

"Day number five….." he muttered. It seemed like weeks since he'd first arrived. His days were spent dividing his time between seemingly endless drills and tests, and the monotonous hours reciting and memorizing the facts that would hopefully keep him alive as he went up against one of Colombia's up-and-coming cartel leaders. As soon as he was "dismissed" each evening, he would drag himself back to the barracks…..scrape together a meager meal and then crawl into bed, wires and sensors attached, of course.

After his second night in Miami, Frank had not seen or heard from the mysterious Lucia. Her presence there had disturbed him greatly, but not as much as the fact that Marsh knew exactly who she was and had somehow sanctioned her visit. He wanted to try to remember more of his past as far as she was concerned, but feared that delving into that shadowy pit might only bring back the disconcerting dreams and visions that he'd experienced just days before arriving. Luckily, no dreams had plagued him and he secretly hoped that whatever power she possessed that drew him toward her had begun to fade.

Each morning he woke feeling more tired and edgy than the day before. Distractedly, he wondered if maybe he had been too long away from actual undercover work. Fifteen years ago, he'd taken all of this in stride. _Fifteen years ago, you were only 24! _Chuckling sadly to himself, he managed to haul himself off of the bed and head toward the bathroom.

After breakfast, he reported to Varner at the ungodly hour of 5:00 AM. He was told that they would be simulating dusk or evening drills and that the pale morning light would double as such. Shaking his head at the asinine logic, they got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, and with no break in sight, the maneuvers continued. This time, he had been brought to what appeared to be a replica of a small, rundown Colombian village. The scenario was one that pitted him up against a band of drug dealers who had found out his identity and were attempting to hunt him down. His objective was to make his way through the abandoned buildings and streets to a waiting vehicle at the other end of the village. 

Frank stopped at the edge of one structure and paused to catch his breath. Gun drawn and at the ready, he cautiously peered around the corner. Sweating profusely, not only from exertion but because he was forced to wear a heavy Kevlar vest in the now sweltering Florida sun, he paused once again to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. Although the shells that they were using were not real, the vest was still a necessity in case someone fired upon him at close range. The hit may not be lethal, but the resulting impact could cause heavy bruising or even cracked ribs.

Seeing that the way appeared to be clear, Frank made his way toward a side entrance to the first building in sight. Ducking inside quickly, he ascertained that at least the first room was empty. Keeping his back to the wall and his eyes peeled to both the doorway ahead of him as well as the one behind him, he continued on.

Stopping quickly, Frank thought he heard some sort of noise. Slight….brief….but definitely a sound. Cocking his head to one side, he listened for the sound to repeat, hoping to hone in on it's whereabouts. After nearly a half minute of almost complete silence on his part, he heard it again, and it was definitely coming from the next room. 

Moving as cautiously and as soundlessly as humanly possible, he approached the next doorway. Once there, he readied himself for whatever was awaiting him. Inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, he prepared for the initial attack. Raising his gun, he quickly turned the corner with the lightning quick speed of a trained professional, aiming it at the first target he saw. 

Firing quickly, he took out a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, brandishing a semi-automatic. Glancing quickly left and right, Frank rapidly determined that no one else was in the room. Assuring himself that the target was indeed "dead", he continued till he reached a doorway leading to an alleyway paralleling the main street. Once outside, he maneuvered his way through two more structures, taking out 3 more hitters as he went. 

After nearly an hour of playing cat and mouse, he could finally see his objective…..an SUV parked no more 20 yards away. Hiding now behind a row of building crates, he had no way of knowing how many more targets he needed to get past in order to facilitate his getaway. Had he taken them all down, or was he about to step in front of the equivalent of a firing squad? From his viewpoint, he saw no one, but some gut instinct told him the worst was yet to come. 

Preparing himself, he drew another gun and made sure that both were fully loaded before venturing further. Peering around the crates as best as he could, he readied himself for the final run to freedom. Launching himself into motion, he rounded the containers and was immediately faced with a boy who appeared to be no more than 14 years old. Frank froze and stared at the child, his eyes immediately haunted by what he saw before him. Without realizing what he was doing, he lowered both drawn weapons, almost as if his arms had a will of their own.

In the second that Frank's weapons were no longer trained on him, the boy pulled a gun from behind his back and fired directly at the center of Frank's chest. Frank almost didn't feel the impact, as he was so caught up in the sight before him.

"Mendoza!! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Varner yelled as he rounded a building to Frank's immediate left. Stomping forward, Varner stopped only when he was directly in Frank's face. "Jesus fucking Christ!! You had him! What the hell made you stop??"

Frank blinked rapidly and finally seemed to focus on the enraged man standing before him. His eyes narrowed as he stared into Varner's eyes. "He's just a boy," was all the explanation that he was willing to give.

"So what? Anyone with the ability to carry a weapon can be your enemy! Or have you forgotten that?" Varner asked sarcastically.

Trying to keep his own anger under check, Frank turned and tried to walk a short distance away, but was stopped when Varner clamped his hand down on Frank's shoulder. As a result of that seemingly harmless gesture, Frank suddenly snapped. Whirling around, he brought his forearm up and connected with Varner's jaw. The force of the blow caused Varner to lose his footing and land on his backside. 

Eyes blazing…..jaw firmly clenched, Varner immediately regained his feet and came at Frank with everything that he had, but on this particular day, that wasn't enough. After a few quick moves, Frank once again had Varner on the ground, but this time he let loose with a barrage of blows which Varner could do very little to block. Luckily for him though, several of the agents who had been used as hitters during the exercise came to Varner's rescue and pulled a possessed Frank Donovan off of him.

Struggling for everything that he was worth, Frank tried vainly to free himself. In the end, it took nearly five agents to subdue him. After several minutes and many bruises later, the other agents finally let Frank go after it appeared that he had calmed down, although they stood close by in case he decided to launch another attack. Much to everyone's surprise though, he turned heel and stormed off. The bigger shock, however, was that Varner let him without another word said. Once Frank was out of sight, he too turned and headed off in the other direction leaving the 5 or so agents left wondering what the hell had just happened.

A short time later, Varner entered the main building and marched past the endless rows of video monitors and technicians and headed directly for Marsh's office. 

Raymond Marsh, of course, knew that he would be visited by his head trainer, having witnessed the entire exchange just moments earlier on the surveillance equipment. So when his office door slammed open, Marsh said, without looking at who had entered, "Have a seat Steven…….I believe we have something to discuss."

"You better fucking believe we have something to discuss!" Varner snarled in reply. 

Marsh swiveled his seat so that he could finally look at the man who now towered across his desk. But instead of being intimidated, Marsh simply smiled sadly. "Steven…..Steven……you knew that this was going to be a difficult assignment….." was all he managed to say before Varner interrupted him.

"Difficult is one thing. Having a fucking lunatic pound my face in is something else entirely!"

Cocking his head first one way and then the other, Marsh visually inspected the man's face for the all too apparent bruising. "He did do a number on you, didn't he?"

"Look….the man is unstable. Everyone else seems to see that except you!"

"On the contrary, it's exactly what we've been waiting for," Marsh replied calmly.

Varner eyed him suspiciously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Marsh sighed as if explaining it all was a major chore for him. "Steven…..everyone here has been chosen specifically to serve a specific purpose. You, for example. You're noted for being tough, thorough and sometimes brutal. Exactly what Frank needs at this particular moment. _No one _is here by accident."

Varner took in everything that he'd just been told. "If that's true, then what the hell was it about that boy that made him shut down like that?"

Marsh smiled almost malevolently. "Ahhhh yes…..the boy. Let me show you something." Turning toward his computer, he began punching in file instructions. After a few seconds, a picture appeared without any sort of caption. Marsh turned toward Varner motioning for him to look.

Steven moved forward so that he could look over Marsh's shoulder. After examining the picture, he said, "Yeah…..so? It's a picture of the boy. Taken a few years ago…..but it's still him. And I'm supposed to make what out of that?" he asked in an irritated voice.

Marsh chuckled and entered a few more keystrokes. A name and a short paragraph appeared under the boy's picture, and without even looking, he knew that Varner's eyes had begun to widen a bit more.

"It's his son," Varner stated incredulously. 

Turning now to look at the other man, Marsh said, "That's right……..his dead son."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank made his way back to the barracks and effectively barricaded himself inside. He needed to be alone……desperately needed to be alone. Pacing back and forth in his increasingly cramped room, his mind raced in a thousand different directions.

The sane part of what was left of his brain knew that the boy with the gun was not Michael. Michael was dead…….a little over three years dead to be exact, but the other part of him…..the part that was now exhausted and for all intents and purposes, sleep deprived, was imagining all sorts of different scenarios. Government cover-ups……medical blunders…….perhaps Michael had survived after all, and they'd buried someone else's child.

As he continued his frantic pacing, the anger began to boil over once more from inside of him. He'd been manipulated once again….either by Marsh finding a very convenient look-alike or by the doctors and medical staff at the hospital where Michael had supposedly died. He stormed across the room, intent on a face-to-face showdown with Marsh. He wouldn't stop until the bastard gave him the answers that he wanted.

Once he opened the door, almost ripping it off its hinges, he nearly plowed over someone standing in the doorway. Taking two steps back, he focused on the person stopped in front of him. 

Lucia. 

Taking a step or two further away, he simply stared at her, more than a little wild-eyed. Something was different about her this time…..something he couldn't quite put his finger on. But instead of approaching him as she had the second night that he was there, she merely walked into the room and waited patiently for him to say something.

After eyeing her warily for several seconds more, Frank finally asked, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him. Not the smile of a seductress, but a seemingly genuine smile tinged with……sympathy? "I heard about what happened today……during training."

"And?"

"Luis……I can only imagine the pain that it must have caused you."

He squinted his eyes at her, almost sure that he had not heard her correctly. "Why do you care?"

"I know what you think of me. That I'm some sort of…..what? Enemy?" She paused as she moved toward a chair in the corner of the room. "I'm truly sorry that you don't remember the wonderful times that we spent together. I….handled things…..poorly…..the other night," she told him, her eyes demurely downcast as she stumbled over her words. "I had no idea that you didn't remember me."

Her words seemed sincere. Even her demeanor was drastically different than it had been the other day, but there was still something…….something cold behind her honey colored eyes. Something that warned him not to trust anything that came out of her mouth. "And your part in all of this?" he finally asked her.

"I'm only here to help you regain your memory," she answered him truthfully.

"And I'm supposed to believe you, why?"

She smiled at him once again. "Because you have no one else to trust, Luis. Marsh is playing games with you, and Varner is simply his little pawn. Who else is there?"

He began to pace once more, although this time slowly….methodically…..pondering everything that she'd said to him. "And how exactly do you plan on helping me?" he asked her warily.

The smile that graced her face this time, was colder than the one just seconds before. "Let me in, Luis," she said in a low voice. "Let me in and I can help you with everything……anything……."

And for a few seconds……Frank's troubled mind considered letting her do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	12. The turning

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Twelve

Frank stared blankly at the woman who sat before him while a silent battle waged within him. Everything she said seemed to make sense. Marsh was manipulating him….playing some sick and twisted game with him, and Varner wasn't to be trusted any more than Marsh. So in the end, who could he turn to? What did he really know about this Lucia? Obviously she had been someone of some importance to him in his former life. Some inner voice told him that they had indeed been lovers, so why shouldn't he trust her now? 

Just as he was about to respond to her, just about to give himself over to her, put himself literally and figuratively in her hands, an image came to his mind….unbidden, but still powerful and very clear.

Laura.

He closed his eyes, trying to hold on to the memory, as his body began to shake from the intensity of the emotion that he felt. He'd almost forgotten about his wife….the one person who loved him like no other…..the woman who had shared his life, for better or for worse, for the past 12 years….the mother of his children…..the one who made him whole.

Opening his eyes once again, he noticed things about Lucia that he hadn't before. Although she was an undeniably beautiful woman, her eyes were cold and unfeeling. She wore too much make-up, almost as if she were trying to hide the woman underneath. Everything she wore….every move she made….had an ulterior motive, a hidden purpose. Although he couldn't deny that she attracted him in some dark, malevolent way, he could clearly see her for what she was…..a piranha, and if he allowed her, he had no doubt that she would devour his very soul.

"Get out," he told her plainly and in no uncertain terms.

Her passive expression changed to one of fury in a matter of milliseconds. "Excuse me?!"

"I said…get out. I don't want to see you again…..ever. Do you understand me? You sicken me….you make my skin crawl…..you're as bad as the rest of them and I am sick and tired of jumping through hoops for your sick and twisted enjoyment!" As his exposition continued, his voice rose both in volume and in intensity, as if he was slowly regaining the strength that he felt he had been so bitterly lacking.

Clenching her fists at her sides and clamping her jaws shut as tightly as she could, Lucia managed, by some miracle, to control the urge to scream in response. She felt humiliated, but not quite defeated. She simply remembered her true purpose for being there and a certain calm reclaimed her.

"Very well," she managed to rasp between clenched teeth as she slowly stood and approached him. "But mark my words, Luis, there will come a time in the not too distant future, when you will come to me….willingly…..and on your knees." Her eyes betrayed her all too evident glee at that possibility.

Taking a hold of her shoulders, he almost violently pushed her away from him. Having her even remotely close to him, angered and disgusted him even more.

Stumbling slightly, she caught herself on the frame of the door and turned her head slowly to look at him. "You always did like it rough, Luis," she told him with a lascivious grin on her face. She stayed for but a few seconds longer and then finally did as he asked and left, relishing the fact that he appeared to be thrown off by her sudden change in demeanor. 

Frank stared at the open doorway for more than a few minutes. His body still trembled from what had almost taken place. He had been closer than he would have ever thought possible to betraying his wife, his marriage, and himself. 

He backed away from the door, almost as if he was afraid that Lucia would slink back in when he wasn't looking. When he felt the bed against the back of his legs, he sat down, leaned his arms against his legs and buried his face in his hands.

He knew that for the sake of the mission, he had tried to put all thoughts of his wife and children in the back of his mind, but somehow knowing that he had been all too successful in that, made him sick to his stomach. Would he have gone through with what his body urged him to do? Would he have been able to touch the woman and not be overwhelmed by regret or guilt? Knowing that he could not truthfully answer those questions bothered him more than anything else that had happened to him thus far.

Standing suddenly, he began to pace, running a hand, now and again, through his short hair in frustration and steadily growing anger. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Was this how he had felt before? Was this how it felt to begin to lose hold of your own life as you relinquished and finally gave in to a new persona? He desperately wished that he could remember. 

But whatever the answer, he was frantically tired of being toyed with. The latest run in with Lucia was almost more than he could take, and the sick and twisted maneuver with the boy who looked like Michael was unforgivable. 

As he continued to pace, his anger began to escalate with every step that he took. He was infuriated at Marsh for orchestrating every move that he made….with Varner for being the devil's lap dog…..with Lucia for waiting in every dark corner of his mind…..but mostly he was mad at himself for letting it all happen. Turning suddenly, he burst through the door, intent on finally having a showdown with the man who had brought him there and had forced him into this situation.

As Frank stomped down the hall, heading for the front doors, he failed to see a wide-eyed Nina standing in the hallway behind him. If he had seen her, he would have been curious as to her presence there so late in the day.

A few minutes later, Frank slammed through the front door of the main building, startling almost every operative there, although they'd seen his approach on the endless bank of monitors. Without a word to anyone, he headed directly for Marsh's office.

Marsh of course, was prepared for Frank's arrival, having seen everything that happened in the room earlier with Lucia. The man was close to breaking, and Marsh couldn't have been happier.

The door suddenly crashed open and an extremely livid Frank Donovan paced in. "I want answers," Frank demanded, "and I want them now."

Marsh merely swiveled in his seat and smiled calmly at the agent towering before him. "Of course, Luis. What would you like to know?"

"What the fuck was that with the boy earlier? Don't tell me that it was some bizarre coincidence that he looked like my son?" 

"Of course it was no coincidence. Nothing is here by coincidence. You should know that."

"Then why?" Frank asked, somehow confused by the fact that Marsh was actually answering his questions.

Sighing tiredly, almost as if the answer should be obvious. "Luis…..we needed a test to see if you'd been successful in assimilating your new life. If you had reacted to the boy as if he meant nothing to you, then it would have indicated that you were ready for your mission. When you did not, then we knew we had more work to do." Marsh paused long enough to let those words sink in, watching the emotions play across Frank's face.

"And Lucia….what part does she play in all of this?" Frank asked hesitantly.

"I think you already know that answer. Look within yourself, Luis. Not only is she a test to see if you're ready, but she played a very important part in your indoctrination 15 years ago."

Frank turned away and walked toward the only window in the room. He didn't want to think about Lucia. In fact, he wanted nothing at all to do with her. _Lying to yourself again, Luis? _Shaking his head, he tried to will away that last thought. Turning back to Marsh, he said, "Look…..I promised that I would go through with this mission, but from now on, no more games….no more manipulations. I'll study the backgrounds that you've given me and that's it. If you don't like that, then too bad. I'm tired of this shit, Marsh."

Marsh leaned back in his chair and pondered the proposition. "Very well. We'll do this your way. Just as long as you're ready in the next week."

"Fine," Frank muttered as he started to head toward the door. At that exact same moment, Varner made the mistake of entering the office. Upon seeing Frank, he took more than a couple of steps back, and eyed the man cautiously.

Frank stepped very close to him before departing. "And you….you can take your little training exercises and shove them up your ass," he told Varner through his thinly veiled control. And without another word, Frank briskly left the office.

Varner turned to watch the man go, closing the office door when he was sure that he wouldn't be returning. "That man is seriously falling apart. And what did he mean about the training exercises?"

"It seems that our dear Frank Donovan thinks that he can do all of this on his own," Marsh responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. 

"And you're going to just let him?" Varner asked incredulously.

Marsh chuckled. "Oh Steven…..the fact is that he's almost ready. Could be tomorrow, in fact. He's headed for a breakdown of sorts, and after tonight, he'll either be turned or we'll have to admit him to the closest psychiatric ward."

"What makes you think that?"

"Do you have any idea what lack of REM sleep can do to a person?" Marsh asked, but continued on without waiting for an answer. "People who are denied REM sleep for long periods of time can become violent, even psychotic. They're more fatigued during the day. They're ability to reason things through is impaired. And although this can be detrimental in most people, we've found that it's actually beneficial in helping an agent cross from their former life to a new one."

"So you're driving him crazy. Is that what you're saying?"

"Steven….I wouldn't put it so crudely, but in essence, yes," Marsh admitted. "And as for tonight…..let's just say that he'll have an extra push to help him along."

Varner looked slightly green. "I thought you said that you weren't going to use that on him."

"What I said was, I'd hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. Now, however, it appears that it is." Marsh rose from his chair and looked out the same window that Frank had peered through just moments earlier. "The girl is in place right now. We should see some results within the next couple of hours."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frank returned to the barracks a short time later. He felt drained, both mentally and physically. So much so, that he now doubted his ability to complete this mission. For the second time that day, he wondered if he was too old for this type of lifestyle. 15 years ago, he'd been able to do all of these things with ease, and now…..

As he opened the door, he was very much surprised to see Nina in the kitchen area. Since his arrival, he'd seen her every morning, but somehow she always seemed to disappear for the rest of the day. Her presence here, unnerved him for some reason.

Nina turned around when she heard him enter. She smiled politely at him, but still appeared to be a bit hesitant, seeing as how she'd witnessed his tirade not only this morning when she woke him, but also just less than an hour ago when she'd seen his abrupt departure.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, although he noticed instantly that she seemed to be cooking.

She smiled once again, shaking her head and shrugging to indicate that she hadn't understood him. "Hungry?" she asked, as she pantomimed the gesture. "Sit…..I….bring," she instructed him in broken English, pointing to the table.

Exhausted from everything that had happened during the day, Frank did as she asked, not even having the strength to respond verbally. He _was_ hungry, he couldn't deny that and had actually been too tired to notice. 

He smiled appreciatively at her when she brought a plate over to him just moments later. "Gracias, Nina," he managed to mumble at her, before picking up a fork and diving into the dinner that she had prepared for him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was wondering why tonight of all nights, she appeared here and so willingly made a meal for him, but either because of his exhaustion or any combination of other things, he chose to ignore that inner voice. A decision that would prove to be his undoing.

After he finished eating, she quickly cleared away the empty plates and disposed of them. Then without another word to him, she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. Shaking his head at the puzzle who was Nina, he rose from his chair and made his way toward the room that had temporarily become his home.

Picking up the case file, he set about once again familiarizing himself with "his" background. A short time later, however, he gave up when it appeared that his ability to concentrate was limited. Standing up, he suddenly felt as if the room was even more suffocating than it had been just minutes ago. Stripping away all but his boxer shorts, he headed toward the bathroom, wanting to splash some cool water on his skin. 

Turning on the faucet, he ran the water over his hand and then splashed it on his face, neck and chest, hoping that it would help to alleviate some of the heat. Upon straightening up, he froze when he thought that he heard something. Quickly turning off the tap, he turned his head, sure that someone had entered the room behind him. Backing toward the wall, he cautiously peered around the doorframe, but saw no one in the room. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He could have sworn, he'd heard a voice or voices just seconds earlier. Wondering then if perhaps the intruder had exited when he heard the water shut off, Frank decided to go and investigate the remaining parts of the building. 

Looking both up and down the hall first, he began to creep toward the main room, all the while keeping his ears open for any out-of-the-ordinary sound. Once in the larger room, he investigated every single inch, his head swiveling this way and that when he thought he would see something out of the corner of his eye.

As he passed the table he had just eaten at minutes earlier, he spotted a gun laying on it's empty surface. Without even questioning why the weapon would have been left out in the open like that, Frank simply picked up the gun and continued on, feeling somewhat better now that he was armed. 

Continuing around the perimeter, the gun poised in front of him, Frank somehow missed the sight of his hands trembling. On and on he continued, circling the same room more than 3 times before stopping suddenly when he was sure that the perpetrator now stood behind him. Whirling around quickly, the room began to spin around him and an odd tingling sensation began to travel down his legs and arms.

Clutching for the nearest wall, he closed his eyes and tried to will the room to remain still. 

"She's betrayed you, Luis," a woman's voice said.

Opening his eyes, Frank was finding it hard to focus on any one thing, but somehow knew that Lucia was back in the room with him, although he wasn't sure if she had been the one who had spoken.

"What? What did you say?" he asked confused by the pandemonium that seemed to be going on around him. Whirling this way and that, he tried desperately to find the person who had spoken.

"You can't trust her. You do know that, don't you?"

This time, Frank was able to finally see who the phantom was, and was not at all surprised to see a barely clothed Lucia standing before him. Somehow through the haze that enveloped his mind, he could make out her long, flowing hair, her ruby red lips and the silky, almost sheer nightgown that _just_ covered her generous curves. And as much as he tried, he couldn't help but stare at every inch of her. His blood now rushing through his veins, he tried anxiously to focus on what she said.

"Who? Who has betrayed me?" he thought he asked, but wasn't sure.

"Who do you think?" she purred, slowly walking around him, running her hand along his bare arm and back, dropping her hand down even further as she came around to the front of him once more. "She looks so innocent…..so sweet, but looks can be deceiving, my love." Bringing her hand down from where it had rested on his abdomen, she cupped him through his shorts, massaging his steadily hardening manhood. "You know what you need to do to any who betray you," she whispered to him as she continued pleasure him through what remained of his clothing.

Everything in Frank's mind screamed that this was wrong, that he should remove her hand from him, but something stopped him, almost as if his body were no longer connected to his brain. But it was her words that he truly was trying to concentrate on. Who was she talking about? Who had betrayed him and why?

The room continued to spin, other voices could be heard weaving in and out of his consciousness and Frank felt helpless to control any of it. Suddenly then, Lucia moved away from him, eliciting either a moan of gratitude or disappointment from him, he wasn't sure which. And in her place two hooded men, brought a struggling Nina before him. Her eyes were wide with terror as she tried in vain to release herself from their grip. 

"She….she is the betrayer. You must see that," Nina continued to whisper to him, although she was no longer standing where he could see her. 

"No….." he barely managed to say as he stared at the young woman, so obviously frightened before him.

"Yes, Luis. She has to be dealt with. You know what you must do."

Frank continued to eye the girl held before him, and for some reason what Lucia said began to make sense. No one betrayed Luis Mendoza and lived to tell about it. And even though he knew nothing of her transgression…..knew nothing of how she had supposedly wronged him, he suddenly felt the need to make her pay for her crimes.

Leveling the gun at her, Frank looked down the barrel at the frightened girl and aimed directly for the center of her chest. Hesitating for only a fraction of an instant more, he finally pulled the trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in his office, Raymond Marsh watched the scene play out, almost sure at first that their plan had not worked, but quickly pleased when he saw Frank raise his weapon and then shoot the girl at almost point blank range. Smiling in satisfaction a moment longer, he reached over and picked up the telephone on his desk. Dialing quickly, he waited for the phone to be answered.

"It's Marsh. Have everything prepared. Our target will arrive in about an hour." Listening for a few seconds and nodding, he added. "I want all passports and paperwork in order, and make a reservation to Colombia. He'll be leaving tomorrow night."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	13. Dreams and nightmares

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Thirteen

Laura awoke sometime in the middle of the night……startled…….gasping for breath…..sure that something was terribly wrong. Her first thoughts, of course, went to the children, and as quickly as she could, she scurried up the stairs, trying her best not to break her own neck in the process. Only when she had reassured herself that both still slept soundly, did her heart rate begin to return to normal. 

Retreating down the stairs, she paused in the living room, sinking down into the first chair that she found there. Sighing heavily, she tried her best to regain her senses. For the life of her, she couldn't recall what thought had been going through her mind when she had so abruptly awoken. All she knew for sure was that something was wrong……something in the sphere of her existence was no longer as it should be. 

__

Frank……

Her heart immediately began to pound in her chest. Having no idea what his mission was, meant that she had absolutely no idea where he was or even what he remotely might be involved in. Through their many years together, she had become more than accustomed to not knowing his whereabouts every hour of every day, but _this_…..this time it was different. Never in all of those years had he ever been forced to take an assignment. Knowing that he had taken this job under those circumstances, unnerved her greatly. Since his departure almost a week ago, she had done her best to come to terms with the situation. But late at night, when she was alone in their bed, she couldn't help but feel lost, hopeless and abandoned. And as she so often did in those moments, she would grasp the gold chain around her neck and let her fingers play across the gold band that dangled there. Somehow, holding on to his wedding band made her feel somehow closer to him. For even though many miles, and God only knew what else, separated them, she felt oddly connected to him still.

Sitting in her living room chair, she grasped that same ring but this time…..this time something was missing. Usually she felt an overwhelming sense of calm after holding it for awhile, but this time all she felt was the cold metal, and as a result her unease escalated ten-fold. Silently she told herself that it was just a result of some disturbing dream, but the growing sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away.

She sat there for several more minutes before finally hauling herself out of the chair and returning to the bedroom. She lowered herself to the bed and stared up at the ceiling, willing herself to go back to sleep, but knowing the likelihood of that happening was almost nil. If she just knew where he was, she knew she would feel so much better. _Or worse!_ Sighing tiredly, she sat up once more and looked at the bedside clock. 4:35 AM. The children wouldn't be up for at least a couple of more hours and as much as she would have liked to get just a few more hours of sleep, tonight she knew that would be impossible. 

After dressing for the day, she made her way into the kitchen and began brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Settling down at the kitchen table, she cradled the mug in her hands and watched the steam rise from its invigorating contents. As she sipped the hot liquid, she let her mind wander, and as almost always happened, her thoughts drifted to Frank. Closing her eyes tightly, she sent up a silent prayer that he would remain safe, and that he would return to her as quickly as possible. 

After 15 or 20 minutes or so, the nervousness returned, either as a result of her worries or from the caffeine in the coffee. Placing the cup down, she rose from her chair and began to pace about the house, her arms wrapped around herself almost as if she were fighting off a chill.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. She knew that if she tried to get any information about Frank's whereabouts from the CIA, she would be brushed aside, but maybe…..just maybe…..

Unmindful of the hour, she picked up the phone and dialed quickly. Only when the line began to ring did she realize what time it was. Figuring that she would just leave a message, she continued, and was almost startled, however, when someone actually answered.

"Hello," a tired voice on the other end of the line answered.

"Jake?" Laura asked timidly.

"Yeah….who's this?" Jake asked with a slightly irritated sound to his voice.

"Jake, it's Laura," she answered sheepishly, realizing that she managed to wake the man out of a sound sleep.

On the other end of the line, Jake Shaw suddenly came fully awake. Glancing at the clock, he suddenly felt very uneasy, knowing that Laura would never call at this hour without a very pressing reason. "Laura….what is it? What's wrong?" he asked her with great concern, his thoughts nervously wandering to Frank and the kids.

"Jake….I'm so sorry for waking you," she began. "I just now looked at the time and figured that I'd just leave a message."

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "We've been working late on a new case and I just thought I'd crash here instead of heading home and coming back in early in the morning," he explained to her. "But Laura, why are you calling at 5 in the morning?"

She sighed tiredly on the other end of the line. "Oh Jake….I'm not sure if I can explain this very well without you thinking that I've gone over the deep end."

"Just tell me what's bothering you," he prompted. "Is it one of the kids? Frank?"

"It's Frank. The kids are fine….well for the most part anyway." She paused as she unconsciously began playing with her necklace. "You know that he's away doing some sort of job for the CIA, right?"

"Yeah. Alex mentioned something about it……said that you and the kids were probably going to come for a visit in a few weeks. Is this about his new assignment?"

"Uh huh……Jake……I think that something's wrong," she tried to explain.

Jake furrowed his eyebrows when he heard the tone in her voice. "What do you mean that you _think_ something's wrong? Have you heard anything?"

"No…..you're going to think I'm crazy when I try to explain this, but I had this dream. I don't remember the details, I just have this overwhelming feeling that something is very wrong." She listened for several heartbeats for Jake to respond. "You _do_ think I'm crazy, don't you?"

Jake wanted to answer that, yes, he did indeed think that she'd just been imagining everything, but he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. Laura was one of the most grounded, sensible people he knew and he figured that if she felt like something was wrong, then there probably was something amiss somewhere. "No….I don't think you're crazy. Worried, yes, but not crazy. Laura…..it's the middle of the night. How have you been sleeping?"

"Are you asking me if maybe this paranoia is a result of sleep deprivation? If so, then…..well, I won't lie to you. No, I haven't been sleeping well. Not since Frank left nearly a week ago, but Jake, I've functioned on a whole lot less than this before." She stopped momentarily as she rose from her chair and began to pace once more. "Jake….I'm worried. I don't know how else to say it…..to describe this to you. There's something wrong and I need to find some way to find out what's going on."

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, "Are you asking me to help find out what's going on with him? If so, you know that's easier said than done."

"I know….I know, and I'm sure that whatever information you can come up with will be brief and vague. Jake….I just need to know that he's all right," she told him, her voice breaking, as tears suddenly began to well up in her eyes. 

Jake could hear the heartache in her voice, and it killed him. "Laura, I'm not sure what I'll be able to find out, but we'll see what we can come up with."

"Thank you," she could barely say above a whisper, as she tried desperately not to break down completely on the phone. "I just need to know."

"Don't worry…..OK? As soon as Cody gets here, I'll have him track down anything he can on the case that Frank's involved in, and then when the boss gets in, I'll see if he can use his contacts with the Justice Department to gather any information as well."

Wiping the tears from her face, Laura responded. "Thanks, Jake. You really have no idea what this means to me." 

"It'll be OK. I'm sure that he's fine," he told her, trying to alleviate some of her fears. "Frank's one of the strongest men that I know. He can handle whatever they throw at him."

She smiled weakly, wanting to believe what he was telling her. "I know…he is. Just call me as soon as you hear anything…….anything at all. OK?"

"You got it. Are you and the kids still coming for a visit?"

"Yeah…..we'll probably be there in a couple of weeks. I'll let you know the exact dates."

"Great. I know that everyone here is looking forward to seeing you." 

"It'll be good to get away for awhile. The kids haven't taken this very well, and this visit will give them something else to focus on."

Jake could only imagine how Christopher and Alicia had reacted to their father's sudden departure. "Well…..we can't wait. And Laura…..please don't worry, or at least don't worry until there's something actually to worry about."

Laura couldn't help but chuckle at the logic. "You may have a point there. I'll be waiting to hear from you," she explained to him. "And Jake…..I'm sorry that I woke you."

"I'm not," he told her. "It's good to hear from you, whatever the hour. Take care."

"You too. Bye." Hanging up the phone, she felt somewhat better than she had before she called. She still didn't have any information, but knowing that she now had some partners in on this, somehow managed to relieve some of the burden that she was carrying. She stared at her now cold cup of coffee and smiled sadly when she realized that she was going to need a lot more of the stimulating liquid in order to make it through the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly….agonizingly slowly, Frank fought his way to consciousness. Feeling as though he was frantically kicking his way toward the surface, his body gave the impression of being heavily weighted, and refused to obey his commands. But as minutes ticked by, the feeling began to lessen and he became more aware of the world surrounding him.

The first thing he became aware of was that his head hurt. An almost blinding pain sat directly behind his eyes, almost making him wish for blessed unconsciousness to overtake him once more.

The second thing that occurred to him was that every sound from the traffic outside seemed to aggravate his throbbing head. Every blare of a car's horn, every squeal of tires set his teeth on edge.

Groaning inwardly, he finally managed to open his eyes, only to stare blankly at the ceiling fan as it lazily turned in circles overhead. After several minutes, he somehow managed to pivot his head in order to look at the clock by his bedside. Through squinted eyes, he could just barely see that it read 8:14. AM, he assumed, although with the pain in his head preventing him from thinking clearly, he could have easily believed that the muted light was from the steadily approaching dusk.

The third thing that came to him was that nearly every muscle in his body ached…..ached as though he had just run an excruciating 26K run…..uphill every step of the way. As he tried to stretch, he was dismayed to find that the entire right side of his body refused to move. Something akin to panic moved him and he opened his eyes once more to see the cause of the problem. 

Lucia.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she had draped herself across his body, entwining her limbs with his. Sighing in frustration, he managed to slowly disengage her body from his, all the while trying desperately not to wake her. Although the sight of her nude body stirred something within him, he had no desire to quench that particular thirst at the moment. 

Once free, he sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed his hands roughly across his face. Whatever had happened last night was a mystery to him. He could only hope that he'd enjoyed himself, for today he was more than paying the price.

Rising from the bed, he stumbled, more than walked, to the bathroom in order to relieve himself and to wash away some of last night's stale remnants. Feeling somewhat better for the effort, he returned to the bedroom and immediately grabbed the cell phone on the bureau in order to check his messages. Glancing briefly at the bed, he wanted to make sure that Lucia was indeed still sound asleep. He had work to attend to, and he didn't need her particular brand of distraction at the moment. Although a beauty, Lucia could drone on about anything and everything to the point where all he wanted to do was fuck her and be done with it.

Lucia…..

When he'd first awoken, he'd been somewhat disoriented. But when he became aware that she was at his side, he knew for sure where he was……in the apartment that he kept in downtown Miami. It seemed like years since he'd been here last. In fact, at the moment, he couldn't recall quite when his last visit had been. Setting those thoughts aside, he quickly donned a discarded pair of pants he found lying on the floor, just enough to cover his own nudity, before stepping out onto the balcony overlooking the street below.

Quietly sliding the door shut behind him, he squinted painfully when the morning's light assaulted his senses. Doing his best to focus on the task at hand, he quickly checked the voice mails left from the previous night. One in particular caught his immediate interest. The call had finally come that he'd been waiting for.

A long time ago, when he still had lived in Colombia, he had worked with a young man by the name of Juan Jimenez. In the years since he'd left, he'd heard often about how the young Juan had grown into quite a force to be reckoned with in the drug world. Now, it seemed, Juan had finally achieved the status that he had so desperately, and ruthlessly, worked for. Not three weeks ago, he'd begun to hear rumblings of an impending coup, and now it seemed that uprising had finally occurred, leaving Juan Jimenez the clear victor.

The call had come from another associate he had not heard from in quite some time. A man who still had contacts in Bogotá, a powerful and dangerous man in his own right. The man, known only as Ramon, had contacted him on behalf of Juan Jimenez inviting Luis to his palatial estate, La Fortaleza, outside of Bogotá. It seemed that Juan would be in need of men, trustworthy men, who would be as cunning and as merciless as he was. Luis knew that he fit that bill perfectly.

A cold-blooded smile graced his face. Finally, after all of the years working for idiots who couldn't move a hundred kilos of grass without getting caught, he would finally be working for someone who was worthy of his talent and expertise. Of course, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy. It had been years since he'd seen Juan and he was quite sure that he'd have to prove himself before being accepted into the fold. A challenge that he was more than ready for.

Wrapped up in his own ambitious thoughts, he didn't hear the door slide open behind him, and it wasn't until he felt a pair of arms slide around his waist did he realize that he was no longer alone.

"Come back to bed," she whispered to him as one hand caressed his muscled chest. Catching the hand before it could go any further, he quickly turned to face the woman who had interrupted his solitude.

She had dressed, just barely, pulling on one of his button down shirts, and, as the wind blew slightly he noticed, nothing else. "Go back inside," he commanded her.

She pouted slightly, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. "Join me," she tried once again.

Frowning at her, he reiterated, "I said…..get inside. Don't you think this is a bit casual for the city," he asked in an irritated tone, motioning toward the shirt that she just barely wore.

"What? You don't like it?" she asked seductively. 

"Must the whole neighborhood see you dressed like a whore?"

Leaning in to him, one hand snaking around his neck, she whispered, "I thought you liked this look."

Practically growling, he answered through clenched teeth, "I do…..but I don't want the rest of the world to see what kind of _una puta_ you are," he answered, his eyes growing darker, but not necessarily from rage.

She began to move even impossibly closer to him, but was stopped when his hand shot out and captured her face in its strong grip. He stared intently into her eyes, not sure if he should punish her insolence, or fuck her till she could no longer walk. Pausing not a second longer, his lips took hers in a crushing kiss, his tongue ravaging her mouth and leaving her breathless and weak in the knees. Then just as suddenly as he started, he quickly ended the kiss practically tossing her away from him in the process, leaving her clinging to the balcony railing, her breath coming in shallow gasps. 

Then without another word, he turned and made his way through the sliding glass doors. There would be time for such play later. This morning, he had an important journey to get ready for, and by tonight, he would be back in Colombia. 15 years, it had been since he'd last set foot on its soil…..a long time away from the land of his birth. It was time to regain what should have been his so long ago. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	14. Arrivals and departures

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Fourteen

Frank looked disinterestedly out the window of the aircraft. His mind drifted to the upcoming reunion with Juan Jimenez, as the scenery swiftly changed 32,000 feet below him. It had been years since he'd seen the man face-to-face, and although he wasn't especially nervous about the impending meeting, he was, nonetheless, anxious to see what the outcome would be. This was the break he had been looking for. After the long years that he'd spent in the States, he was more than ready to regain the position of power that he'd held before everything had fallen apart 15 years ago, forcing him into his self-imposed exile.

Just then, the plane banked, changing directions, and as a result the sun shone directly in Frank's window. In the direct sunlight, he could see a reflection of himself in the window's surface. For a second or two, he experienced a bizarre detached feeling, almost as if he were looking at another person and not himself. For the second time that day, he absently wondered what had ever possessed him to cut his hair and trim back his beard. Running his fingers across his chin and upper lip, he swiftly made a decision to at least grow the goatee back to a more desirable length. As for the length of his hair, he decided that perhaps it would be best to leave it short. After all, if he was going to be living in hot and humid Colombia once more, it might be nice not to have all of that hair to deal with.

Frank shifted in his seat and felt a hand move across his midsection. Lucia. He'd almost forgotten that she'd pressured him in to taking her with him. Glancing at the woman sleeping soundly next to him, he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to remember exactly why he was with her. Was the sex _really_ that good? He certainly didn't love her. In fact, he had no strong feelings for her at all, except for maybe lust. So why was he such a pushover where she was concerned? Shaking his head, he decided that at least this time, it would be nice to have someone along who was in his corner. He was going to be the outsider once again, but having Lucia with him, he felt somewhat better. Turning toward the window once more, he couldn't help but smirk. She had another coming if she thought that he would bring her along to the meeting with Juan. Little did she know, that she'd be staying behind in the hotel in Bogotá. Juan was a barracuda, and even though he had no real connection to the woman, he still didn't fancy the idea of her falling victim to Juan and his "charms". _Jealous, Luis? _Again he shook his head, trying to clear it of all thoughts except those concerning this upcoming get-together. 

An hour and a half later, the plane landed safely in Bogotá. The minute he set foot off of the aircraft, Frank was immediately hit by the heat and humidity. And where most groaned and cursed it, Frank embraced it, feeling immediately like he was home once again. Once they emerged from the seemingly endless line snaking through customs, they were met by a man holding up a card with Luis' name on it. Frank simply nodded at the man, letting him know who he was. Obediently, the man scurried forward and grabbed their carry-on items motioning for Frank and Lucia to follow.

Lucia grabbed Frank's hand, halting him momentarily. "I need to use the restroom," she whispered in his ear. Sighing exasperatedly, he called for the man to stop and motioned for Lucia to go on her way while they waited for her. Frank glanced at his watch and paced while she left his side.

Once inside the ladies room, Lucia was glad to see that the place was bustling with activity. Finding an empty stall near the back, she entered and locked the door behind her. Once there, she scrounged around in her purse for her satellite phone, quietly rejoicing in the fact that they now were small enough to fit in a handbag.

She listened to the endless drone of voices around her while the phone dialed. A few seconds later, she heard someone answer.

"Raymond….it's me," she said barely above a whisper.

Raymond Marsh could barely make out the voice on the other end, but knew immediately who he was talking to. "Lucia…..I can barely hear you. Where in God's name are you?" he asked curiously.

"I'm in a crowded restroom in Bogotá," she replied trying to speak up a little bit, but not enough to draw attention.

"Good. Any trouble so far? How's our boy doing?"

"Everything's fine. Well, except for the fact that he wanted me to stay behind in Miami. I had to……persuade him to do otherwise," she practically purred to him.

Marsh cringed slightly. "Lucia…..what have you done? We've talked about this," he told her in an irritated tone.

"Nothing," she answered as innocently as possible.

"Tell me that you haven't slept with him," he demanded. The plan all along had been for Lucia to peak Frank's sexual interest but to refuse to give in to any of his advances. Once Lucia and Frank were away from the compound, Marsh had started to doubt Lucia's resolve to stick to that particular part of the plan.

When several seconds ticked by, Marsh's anger began to multiply ten-fold. "God damn it, Lucia!! The man's married!"

"Well at the moment, he doesn't remember that, now does he?" she taunted.

"Lucia….." Marsh hissed through clenched teeth. "So help me God, I'll end this mission right now, if that's what it takes to get your claws off of him."

Lucia chuckled on the other end of the line. There was nothing more enjoyable than sparring with Raymond Marsh. _Well, maybe one thing_…..she thought leeringly to herself. "Raymond….calm down before you have another cardiac episode. To answer your question…..no…..I haven't slept with him. He believes that we have. After all, we woke up together in bed, completely naked." She could hear him exhale loudly on the other end of the line. "That doesn't mean that I wasn't tempted, but unfortunately, he wasn't _up_ for any fun and games this morning. LSD can be a bitch to come down from." 

Sitting down almost forcibly, Marsh stared at the ceiling of his Miami hotel. "Lucia….what are his plans now?" he asked, momentarily letting the other subject drop.

"He has a meeting with Jimenez around 11 tomorrow morning. That's all I know for now."

"Fine. Call me when you can, and if things get out of control, you have the emergency contact number, correct?"

"I do. Raymond…..relax. Everything will be all right. Luis may have been forced into this, but he's more than capable of completing this mission."

Marsh frowned at her use of Frank's mission name instead of his real name. "Lucia….I'm very serious. If I find out that you did anything outside the boundaries of what we discussed, I will personally make sure that you never see the light of day after this mission is over. Do you understand me?" he told her in his most threatening tone of voice.

Pulling the phone momentarily away from her ear, she almost hung up on the man for treating her like some sort of green recruit, but something stayed her hand. Deep down inside, she knew that Marsh wouldn't hesitate to follow through on that threat. "Fine, Raymond," she finally answered him. "I'll be a good girl," she told him in a slightly condescending tone.

Before Marsh had a chance to say anything further, the line went dead. Slamming the phone down in its cradle, he cursed under his breath. The woman was the one wild card in his whole plan. He had every confidence that Frank would ingratiate himself into Jimenez's operation and then get them the information that they would need to take down another drug kingpin. 

Rising from his seat, he strode across the room and stopped at the open window overlooking the shore. For a few seconds, he allowed himself to enjoy the view. The twinkling lights reflecting off of the ocean called to him, but today, just like every other day, duty beckoned. Rubbing his temples fiercely, he tried to relieve the throbbing headache that had surfaced hours ago. 

Turning away from the window with the intent of downing another couple of aspirins, he suddenly stopped when a piercing pain invaded his chest. Clutching his hand against his breastbone, he was reasonably sure that he was having one of those cardiac episodes that Lucia had so flippantly referred to. But when he pulled his hand away, he was shocked to see blood covering not only his hand, but almost the entire front of his shirt.

A lightheadedness overcame him as he continued to stare at the bright red substance on his hand. No longer able to stand upright, he quickly and awkwardly fell to his knees as he labored to take his next breath.

While he was still semi-conscious, he wondered if he had enough energy left to make it to the phone not 10 feet away. Lowering himself to a crawling position, he slowly moved each arm and leg as if the effort was monumental. With his head down, he watched with some fascination as the blood now freely dripped from the gaping wound in his chest.

Having only maneuvered a little under 2 feet, he soon accepted the fact that he would not live to see another sunrise. He sat down and leaned against the bed behind him, his legs splayed out at curious angles before him. 

As the darkness descended upon him, some of his last thoughts were of who could have ordered such a hit. Laughing as much as he could, blood now bubbling up through his mouth, he couldn't help but be amused at the amazingly long list of people who would like nothing more than to see him dead…..dead and on an express train to hell. Absently he thought, they'd get their wish soon enough. 

Marsh closed his eyes, and tried for a few seconds more to put together a coherent thought. So many regrets passed through his weary mind. How many men had he sent to their deaths? How many deals had he made with countless demons in order to achieve the unachievable? 

Of course, he couldn't help but think about Frank. In many ways he respected Frank Donovan. Everything that he'd achieved in not only his personal life but in his professional life were things that Marsh could have only hoped for. A sound….a garbled, liquid filled sound erupted from his throat, as if he was attempting to say something. Slumping down to the floor, he reached out a shaking, exceedingly weakened hand out and began to move it across the carpet. Only after he was happy with his efforts did he finally close his eyes. Breathing as deeply as he could, he sent a small prayer to the heavens, asking for some semblance of forgiveness. But when another blinding pain hit him, he knew that his prayer had been denied. He would receive no absolution, no redemption. In his last thought, he wondered what hell would be like.

The next morning, an unfortunate cleaning woman was the first to find Raymond Marsh's body. Nearly screaming, she had backed out of the room, her hands clamped over her mouth as she vainly tried to keep the bile from escaping over her drawn lips. 

Within five minutes, the hotel manager was called to the room. Within twenty, the entire floor was cordoned off, and within the hour, a team of homicide detectives were combing through the man's room and belongings, searching for clues of the apparent foul play, as every customer of the hotel was questioned. 

Two detectives stood to the side, intently watching as the forensic team went about their work. What puzzled almost everyone in the room, was what had been found on the floor next to the victim's body. A word was written, or at least partially written in the victim's own blood. It simply said……sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Lucia finally emerged from the women's restroom, Frank grabbed her arm and ushered her toward the nearest exit. Once there, the man with them scrambled to retrieve the limousine that had been sent to pick them up. Settling in the back, Frank barked out the directions and then sat back for the ride. 

He watched in fascination as the scenery sped by. So much had changed and still more looked exactly as he had remembered it. Although he was nearly dropping from exhaustion, he still felt an overwhelming sense of giddiness at being back in the land of his birth. He hadn't realized, until they'd stepped foot out of the airport, how much he had missed it.

As his thoughts wandered, he felt Lucia mold herself to his side, and for the moment he chose to ignore her. But as the minutes ticked by and her advances became more pronounced, he finally turned toward her. Her eyes were hooded and intent in their purpose. She had draped a shapely leg over his thigh and her hand was now snaking inside his partially opened shirt. Although the day had been long, and remnants of the headache that he'd woken up with still lingered, he could feel himself responding to her touches and caresses.

Snagging her arm and withdrawing it from his chest, he was amused at the lovely pout that graced her lips as a result. But when he raised her hand to his lips and tenderly caressed the inside of her wrist with his lips and tongue, her expression turned to one of pure arousal. He knew how to touch her….how to pleasure her in order to have her screaming his name for release, but now was not the time, but still……a little play wouldn't hurt.

Reaching over, Frank flicked a switch on the side of the door, raising the privacy panel between driver and occupants. Although performing for a crowd had its excitement, the man sent to retrieve them was an employee to Juan and Frank had a reputation to maintain.

Once the back seat was secluded, Frank slowly lowered Lucia to the seat. As he slowly undid the buttons of her blouse, he never took his eyes off of hers, and was pleased to see her dark eyes dilate even more than they had been in the dim light of the car. 

Only when she lay almost bare before him, the flimsy lace material of her bra the only thing hiding her ample breasts, did he finally lower his lips to her eagerly awaiting flesh. Content at first to merely nuzzle her neck with his tongue and lips, he soon moved to the hollow of her neck, knowing that this place in particular could easily bring her to the brink of ecstasy. As he lazily nipped and sucked this area, he was rewarded with her shuddering breaths and arched back as she moaned helplessly under his ministrations. Of course, he had no intention of stopping the exquisite torture, as his hand came up to cup her breast, almost roughly teasing the nipple to a swollen peak. He then pulled the offending material down, effectively freeing her from its confines and happily exposing her coffee-colored nipple to his searching tongue. Sucking her nipple and surrounding areola into his mouth, her groans of pleasure became more pronounced….more primal. Baring the other breast now, he switched back and forth between the two, content to take their game no further. But when he felt her hand meander down between their bodies, he was unprepared for the feeling of her none-to-gently cupping his manhood and massaging him wantonly. Knowing that if she continued with that, that they'd be doing much more than playing, he quickly grabbed her hand and drew it away from his body as he closed his eyes tightly, fighting to regain control. 

Moving up and away from her, he adjusted his pants trying to relieve the pressure on his almost painful erection. Glancing out the window quickly, he surmised that they were only ten minutes or so from their hotel, The Inter-Continental Tequendama.

Reluctantly, she rose from her reclined position and scooted herself even closer to him, not even bothering to cover up her half naked body. "Why do you stop?" she asked him breathlessly as her hand slid upward along his muscular thigh.

He immediately stopped her progress and turned his head toward her. "Now is not the time, mi diablo pequeño," he informed her, once again bringing her hand to his lips, as his tongue lathed its sensitive surface.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she nearly whispered, her eyes intently drinking in his over her open hand.

A devilish smile graced his lips as he whispered back, "Of course, I do."

As she stared into his almost blackened eyes, she felt some of her resolve slipping. How easy it would be to forget Raymond's warning….to pretend, for just awhile, that he belonged to her and no other…..to lose herself in this man's touch, scent, feel. When Raymond had called her over a month ago and explained that he needed her back for one more mission, she'd nearly declined. Luis Mendoza was the one she had never been able to forget. And to be near to him again, just as she was right now, was almost too intoxicating. Could she just walk away when all was said and done? 

Staring into the depths of his eyes at this very moment, she truly believed that she could not. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	15. Old friends

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Fifteen

Laura scurried to answer the phone before it woke her sleeping children. Glancing briefly at the clock while she did so, she noticed that it said 11:45 PM. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she tried not to panic, but her first thought was that something had happened to Frank. Why else would someone call so late?

"Hello?" she answered, slightly out of breath.

"Laura? Are you all right?" a voice asked on the other end of the line.

Laura closed her eyes, and sighed. "Jake….you scared the hell out of me," she explained.

"Oh geez…..I'm sorry. Damn it…..I didn't even look to see what time it was," he apologized.

"It's OK. Did you find out anything?" she asked, instinctively knowing that was why he had called.

"Well…..kind of. It's not a lot, Laura," he explained, trying to prepare her for what he had to say.

"It's all right, Jake. I just need to know _something_."

"I understand. I have to ask you something first though."

"OK, what is it?" she asked, a little nervous at how he had started this conversation.

"What was the name of the man that recruited Frank for this mission?"

"Raymond Marsh," she answered, knowing for sure that she'd told him that specific piece of information when they'd last talked.

"I thought so," Jake mumbled slightly. "Laura….Marsh was found dead this evening in his hotel room in Miami."

Laura sat down heavily on the nearest chair and stared blankly ahead of her. A thousand questions rushed through her head. _Who killed him? Are they sure that it's murder? Does this have something to do with Frank or this case? _

When Jake didn't get an immediate reply, he began to worry. "Laura? Are you still there?"

Shaking her head slightly in an attempt to clear her thoughts, she finally answered. "Yeah….I'm still here," she said barely above a whisper. In the big picture, she could have cared less if Raymond Marsh was dead or not, but the timing of it filled her with a sense of dread. Directly or not, this was going to somehow affect Frank, and _that _scared the hell out of her. Gathering her thoughts, she finally began to ask the questions that she needed answers to. "Are they sure that it's murder?"

Jake looked at the report that Cody had printed out for him. "Yeah….there's no doubt of that. He was shot through the back. He was dead within minutes."

"Do they think……" her voice trailed off before she had the heart to ask her next question.

"Do they think that it has anything to do with Frank?" he asked. "No…..he was on a flight to Colombia when it happened."

Laura relaxed slightly. Closing her eyes, she let out the breath that she wasn't even aware that she was holding. "Thank God," she said almost silently. She knew that her husband hated Marsh. Of that there was no question. And in any normal situation, he would never have done anything violent as a result of that hatred. But somewhere, deep down inside, she was all too well aware that Luis Mendoza just might. 

Regaining her composure, she finally continued. "Do you have anything else for me, Jake?"

Jake glanced once again at the report. Much of it was inconsequential…….or at least at the moment, it seemed to be. Things like….the approximate location of the compound that Frank had been taken to outside of Miami……number of days that he'd spent there…….airline used to transport him to Colombia…..flight numbers. But there were two pieces of information that Jake wasn't so sure that he wanted to share with Laura. One was the fact that Frank had not traveled alone to Colombia. That, in and of itself, meant nothing. He very well could have been paired with another agent as part of some elaborate cover. But the other thing….a picture taken at the airport in Miami…..this is what he didn't want to have to tell Laura about. Somehow, his boss had obtained this photo from a CIA operative stationed in Miami. Someone who had obviously been sent to make sure that Frank got on the flight to South America. 

He fingered the picture and frowned. In it, Frank and some woman had been caught enjoying a very intimate moment together. Something about the photo….something about the position of their bodies led him to believe that this wasn't just play acting. He knew Frank Donovan….knew the love the man had for his wife. To have been captured in such a compromising position meant only one thing. _This_……the person who was in the photo….was not Frank. A cold chill ran up his spine just thinking about what that meant. 

When Jake hesitated much longer than was necessary, Laura became suspicious. "Jake….what is it? What don't you want to tell me?"

Jake sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His internal debate continued, even up to the moment that he opened his mouth to answer her. "There's just one thing more. He wasn't alone when he flew to Colombia," he finally told her. _Please don't ask, Laura…..please don't ask!!_

Something in the tone of his voice troubled her…….made her believe that this one statement meant so much more than he was telling her. "Who went with him? Another agent?" she asked, not surprised that someone else had been caught up in this intricate operation.

Jake winced slightly before answering. "I'm assuming that it's another agent, yeah."

His short clipped answer now worried her. "Who was it Jake? Do you have a name?"

For a few seconds he considered lying to her. The operation was taking place thousands of miles away, and she would never really find out any details even after it was all said and done. So why should he be the one to spill the beans? "Yeah…..I have her name."

The hair on Laura's neck suddenly stood on end. _Her? _Laura's mind began racing….thinking back to the time when Frank had first come to her as a patient…..when she'd helped him retrieve the memories of who he really was. During that process, he had spoken of a woman, someone close to him. _What was her name? _ "What is this woman's name?" she asked out loud, as the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach grew.

Picking up the flight manifest, Jake scanned the sheet in front of him. "Ummmm……. here it is. Lucia Cortez."

Laura's heart momentarily stopped, or at least that's how it felt. She wasn't 100% sure, but she could have sworn that it was the same woman that Frank had mentioned all of those years ago. The fact that he had once again been paired with someone who had worked alongside him before, didn't bother her. It was the _who _that person was, that did. She tried desperately to remember the girl's name. Was it the same?? Something similar, perhaps? She mentally berated herself for not being able to recall that particular detail. As soon as she hung up the phone with Jake, she intended to retrieve the records that she'd saved from 15 years ago. 

Jake heard nothing but dead silence from the other end of the line. "Laura? Are you all right?" he asked once again.

Putting on a brave front, she answered, "Of course I am. I just thought….."

"You thought what?"

"I thought that maybe I recognized the name," she finally confessed, but kept her other thoughts to herself.

"Oh….someone Frank talked about from…..before?" Jake asked hesitantly.

"Maybe," was all she was willing to say. "Is there anything else?"

"No, that's it. If I hear anything further, I'll let you know," he responded, almost glad to end the conversation, before she asked anything further.

"Thanks, Jake." Before she hung up though, a thought suddenly occurred to her. "Jake…..does anyone else know where Frank is? I mean, I got the impression that Marsh was the one in charge and with him out of the picture….."

Jake frowned at what she was asking. During his stint with the FBI, he knew all too well that everyone from the higher-ups on down knew what each group was up to, but he wasn't so sure that things worked the same in the CIA. Somehow, he didn't seem to think it did, and Laura's questioned disturbed him more than he wanted to let on. "I'm sure that they do. I mean I was able to get this information, right?" was all he could say, for anything further would be pure speculation.

"Yeah….I'm sure that you're right. Thanks again."

"Anytime. And just let us know if you need anything else. You know that we're here for you," Jake added, meaning every single word.

Laura smiled sadly. "Thanks Jake, and thank everyone for helping out, OK?"

"You bet. See ya."

"Bye." Laura hung up the phone and stared blankly at the wall in front of her. She needed to find those files and look over them once more. Knowing that she wouldn't sleep until she did so, she decided to set about her mission now instead of waiting until morning. Hauling herself out of the chair, she made her way toward the basement steps. Years ago, she had used one of the rooms downstairs as a type of home office, and that was where any and all files that she'd accumulated over the years were locked up. Leaving the door open, so she could hear the children, she descended the steps in search of the answers that she needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About the same time that Jake was calling Laura, Frank and Lucia were entering their hotel. After checking in, they made their way to the elevators off of the lobby. Once inside the confines of the elevator, Lucia made her move.

What had occurred in the limousine had only served to whet her voracious appetite and now…….now that they were almost alone together……she wanted more. Frank had been leaning against the wall when she pressed herself tightly against him, even managing to work her way between his slightly parted legs. Winding her arms around the back of his neck, she almost forcefully pulled his head toward hers. At first, as her lips met his, she thought that he would push her away, since it appeared that he was refusing to respond. But in the blink of an eye, the tables were turned on her.

Pivoting his body, he soon had her crushed against the side of the elevator as he took her mouth hungrily. Moaning in both surprise and pleasure, she quickly responded to his will. He lifted her slightly as his hands cupped her round bottom. Once he had her where he wanted her, the force of his body against hers was enough to keep her in place. She wanted more, however, and moved to wrap her legs around his waist. As soon as she accomplished this, she could feel his throbbing erection exactly where she needed it to be, against her warm, moist center. 

The torture was almost too much for her, as she ripped her mouth from his and leaned her head back against the wall, now panting uncontrollably. It had been too long since she had enjoyed him like this. She made a decision, then and there, that she would have him and, God help her, she would do anything she could to keep him.

Frank was lost…….lost in the feel, the smell, the touch of the woman in his arms. He sought the pleasure that she so readily gave. He nipped and sucked her supple neck, knowing, but not caring, that he would leave marks on her tender flesh. As his mouth continued its onslaught, so too his hands worked their magic on her curvaceous body. Once he worked his way under her skirt, he then easily pulled her thong down, completely exposing her tender derriere to his kneading hands. 

He contemplated, for more than a second or two, of taking her right there in the elevator, but thought better of it. In a minute or two more, they would be alone in their room and he would be able to fuck her any way he pleased….for as long as he pleased. Lucia was always a willing partner, no matter what the time, place or situation. 

Slowly he eased himself away from her, more than aware that she was amazingly close to climaxing. One touch, in _just_ the right spot, and she would be screaming his name like a banshee. As he looked at her flushed face, he smiled sadistically. Perhaps tonight, he would have her beg for it. He could keep her so very close to her orgasm for hours and would only let her climax when he had her in tears and begging like a dog. _A bitch in heat……that's my Lucia……_

He reached behind his back and unlatched her legs from around him. The look on her face was one of desperation, but before she could speak, he explained. "Shhhhh, mi insaciable [my insatiable one]. Wait but a few moments, and I will give you what you crave," he cooed to her as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. 

Just then, the elevator doors slid open behind him. Turning slightly, he saw that an older couple waited to enter. Grabbing Lucia's hand, he pulled her toward the opening, and was more than a little amused at the disapproving looks the couple gave them as Lucia attempted to adjust her panties as they went. Before proceeding down the hallway, Frank turned toward the still open elevator and addressed the other couple.

"¿Quizás ustedes no recuerden lo qué es la pasión?" [Perhaps you do not remember what passion is?] he taunted with a wicked smile, and laughed heartily when the two glared at him in response. 

Once the doors slid shut, he continued down the hallway with Lucia in tow. After opening the door to their suite, he practically shoved Lucia through the doorway as he felt the urgency of his own need for her rise. The door quickly shut behind them, leaving them in the dark. Frank walked to the nearest wall with the intent of flipping on the light switch. "Just a little longer, mi amor," he reassured her, a hint of devilish amusement in his voice. 

In the microsecond that it took for light to fill the room, Frank knew that they were in trouble. Lucia was across the room from him, now in the clutches of a man who stood at least 6'5", his hand plastered across her mouth in order to prevent her from screaming any type of warning. Three other men….armed men…..stood close by, and Frank could feel something cold and hard pressed squarely against the back of his head. A gun, he presumed.

Cursing at himself for not securing a weapon for himself earlier, he knew that they were defenseless. Raising his hands slowly from his sides, he waited for one of the men to explain their intent.

"Ahhhhh Luis….tú siempre tuvistes un gusto exquisito para las mujeres," [Ahhhhh Luis….you always did have exquisite taste in women,] a voice from behind him stated. "Espero que no hayamos interrumpido nada." [I hope we haven't interrupted anything.] The man laughed knowingly and said, "Pero puedo ver por la cara de tu dama que sí lo hemos hecho. Siento tener que defraudarte, querido, pero me temo que Luis es necesitado en otra parte esta noche," [But I can see from your lady's face that we have. Sorry to disappoint you, my dear, but I'm afraid that Luis is needed elsewhere this evening,] he stated, now addressing Lucia.

During the last few seconds, Frank was able to hear enough of the man's voice in order to identify him. "Do I have to stand here with my fucking arms raised all night, or do you plan on telling me what the hell is going on, Manuel?" 

"¿Crees que me conoces, eh? [You think you know me, eh?] the man asked with a certain edge to his voice.

"I know that you can't aim worth shit. Hell….you can't even hit the fucking toilet when you piss," Frank stated defiantly.

Bellows of laughter erupted from the man. "¡Joder, Luis! ¿Cuánto tiempo ha pasado? ¿Y qué demonios te ha ocurrido en el pelo?" [Shit, Luis! How long has it been? And what the hell happened to your hair?] the man asked as he took the gun away from Frank's head.

Turning slowly, he was still not quite sure that he could trust any of the men in the room, although they all seemed to have relaxed their stance once Frank acknowledged who held him at gunpoint. Even the goon holding Lucia appeared to have eased his hold on her, although Frank noted that he still held a hand across her mouth.

The 15 years had not been kind to Manuel Ortiz, Frank noticed. Always a bit slovenly, the man had gained at least 50 to 60 pounds and his face was flushed almost beet red as if he'd just run a 100 yard dash in mere seconds. Still, a long time ago, Frank had included Manuel on a very short list of men that he had trusted. 

"So what do we do now?" Frank asked, still not sure what the point of this little surprise was, and totally ignoring the reference to his own appearance.

Manuel chuckled once more. "Always down to business, eh Luis? And what's with the English? Don't tell me you've been too long away from here to remember how to speak the language." 

"Maybe……maybe it has been too long. If you don't mind, it would be easier for me," Frank explained. The truth was he had no problem at all conversing in Spanish, but he wanted the others around him to work harder at communicating with him. He felt at an extreme disadvantage at the moment. He needed something, no matter how small, to tip things back in his direction

Shrugging his indifference, Manuel rubbed a hand across his sweat covered nose, he said, "I suppose you want to know what the hell we're doing here?"

"For starters, yeah. And would you please tell your goon to get his fucking paws off my woman."

Nodding his head, he instructed the other man. "Do as he says. No disrespect intended, I assure you."

"Of course not," Frank responded playing along, at least for now. "So what are you doing here? I thought we were supposed to meet up tomorrow morning."

"Yeah…well, Juan's decided that he wants you there tonight. So if you and your lady don't mind, we'll escort you to our cars downstairs."

"No," Frank stated simply.

Manuel looked slightly amused by the defiance he saw in his old friend. "No? And why the hell not?"

"She stays here. I'll go with you now, but she remains at the hotel."

Manuel stepped closer to Frank and nearly whispered, "What's wrong? She doesn't have any idea what you do to make a living?" Manuel eyed Lucia from across the room, and noticed that she still looked somewhat flustered and confused.

"It's not that," Frank answered. "I just don't want her getting involved with any of this. At least not until I've established what the hell I'm doing here."

"Ahhhhh……" Manuel responded, looking back and forth between Frank and Lucia as he considered the situation. "I think that for now, she would be safer with us, and besides, Juan knows that you brought the woman along, and might be insulted if you didn't bring her."

Frank gritted his teeth. There were so many things that he wanted to say in response, but he knew that now was not the time to press such an issue. 

Manuel sniggered once again as he saw the anger flit across Frank's eyes. "Temper, temper, Luis…….remember to keep that infamous temper of yours in check when you meet with Juan later. He's not quite the same man that he was so long ago. The years…….well, let's just say that they've hardened his heart. At least what was left of it," Manuel added with some delight.

"Come my friends….we still have almost a two hour journey to get to our destination, and I don't know about you, but I'd like to get at least some sleep tonight." Turning to the men with him, he added, "Grab the happy couple's bags, will you? At least make yourselves useful for something," he muttered as he turned toward the door.

Before venturing into the hallway, Manuel and his men made sure to have their weapons concealed. Soon they reached the lobby and were on their way moments after that.

Frank sat in the back of one of the sedans sent to pick them up, along with Manuel with Lucia sandwiched in between them. He held her hand reassuringly, although he knew that once they were on Juan's turf, he would be able to do very little to protect her. He remembered all too well the way that Juan treated women. They were commodities to be bought, sold, used and abused. And although he didn't really care for Lucia, he still didn't wish to see her thrown to the hounds.

Staring out the window at the darkened countryside, he wondered anxiously what this upcoming meeting would bring. Forcing it upon him, was exactly Juan's cup of tea. Keep your opponent off keel, that was his M.O. The question in Frank's mind was…….._when did I become his opponent?_

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****

A/N Many, many thanks to Ayla for helping me with the translations into Spanish! Hugs!!!!


	16. Too close for comfort

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Sixteen

Within minutes after having hung up the phone with Jake, Laura had begun her search through the endless piles of boxes that she had locked away in what remained of her home office. Much to her surprise it hadn't taken her but a half hour or so to find Frank's file. 

It consisted of two parts. The first had been provided to her when she'd first taken his case. In it was the entire background for Luis Mendoza that had been provided to him to learn and study. The second section was a compilation of all of the notes that she had written while he had been under her care. Forgoing her own notes momentarily, she decided to refamiliarize herself with Luis' past.

The "history" that had been developed for him was one of a harsh and sometimes bitter childhood. The father had died when Luis would have been 10 and as a result he was left with an emotionally detached and abusive mother. Reading through the rest of the details, it became clear to her that Luis would have an inherent distrust of almost any female he would ever come in contact with in his life. 

Other parts of the file had to do with supposed contacts…..jobs completed……that sort of thing. Pushing the rest aside, she reached for her own pile of notes. As she hefted the rather sizable folder onto the table next to her, a smaller file slipped from the back and fell to the floor, scattering its contents in the process. Cursing to herself, Laura knelt on the floor and retrieved the papers. Once she had them together, she once again sat in her chair and nonchalantly glanced at the file that had fallen. The papers were unfamiliar to her but she immediately recognized the notes as being a part of Frank's psychological evaluation when he went through his _first_ indoctrination into Luis Mendoza's world.

Suddenly fascinated, she pushed her own files to the side momentarily. For the life of her, she couldn't recall having read through this particular part of the file, and was now anxious to see what another psychologist had made of Frank's behavior.

Most of it was blasé and dry. The process had taken nearly 5 to 6 months, which, from what she could understand, was longer than usual. She searched for the reason, as she flipped through page after page. Finally, she hit pay dirt. 

__

"Agent Donovan is very proficient with both weapons and covert operation techniques. But after many attempts, and subsequent failures, to submerse the subject's own personality and sense of ethics, other methods will need to be explored."

Other methods? Laura didn't particularly like the sound of that. What had they tried that had failed? She put these thoughts aside as she continued on.

__

"Time and again the subject has balked at performing any action that would be considered unethical or immoral in his eyes, and this is where the difficulties lie. Some way must be found to bypass this part of the agent's behavior. 

"In reviewing other similar case files, we have come across other techniques that have proven successful. We will try them here as well. As such, it has been decided that the problem will be addressed from another angle. 

"In the upcoming weeks, he will make contact with a variety of different agents. Their purpose here will remain unclear to him, but ultimately we look to pair him with one who will, in many ways, balance his abilities." 

A cold feeling of dread began to seep through Laura's bones causing her to visibly shiver. On the surface, what she read implied that he would be paired with another agent and the two would complete the mission together. But somehow, she believed the intent was much darker than that. They meant to subvert him……to turn him into something that he wasn't. Skimming ahead, she passed the endless entries about which agents had been chosen, but one thing was immediately evident…..all of the agents were women. Frowning at what that implied, she continued.

__

"After nearly two weeks, we have narrowed our search down to two. Upon observation, it is apparent that Agent Donovan is drawn to the one, and has easily struck up a friendship of sorts with her. His relationship with the other is difficult to explain, at best. Although he obviously dislikes her in many ways, it has been noticed that his eyes rarely leave her whenever she is in sight. It is this relationship that we choose to enhance and pursue.

"Having now narrowed down the field, so to speak, his contact with both other agents will be encouraged and, of course, studied in depth." 

A deep-seated anger began to boil within Laura as she read each line. They had set him up and then had observed him like some sort of lab rat. The idea sickened her, but still she continued on.

__

"The difference between the two agents chosen is extreme. One is intelligent, sensitive and engaging and the attraction and friendship between she and Donovan has blossomed. The other is forceful, cunning and manipulative. And while Donovan seems almost repulsed by her presence, he is obviously just as, if not even more so, attracted physically to her. The final test could be the deciding factor as to whether the mission can get underway."

Final test?? What the hell had they come up with as a final test? Reading about her husband's obvious attraction to two other women was difficult, to say the least, although she knew that this had all happened before the two of them had ever even met. 

Flipping to the next page, she was dismayed to find the sheets were out of order. Shuffling through the papers, her agitation grew. As luck would have it, the sheets with the information that she sought, were missing. Grabbing the rest of the files, she quickly rifled through them, but after a half hour or so, she gave up. It would seem that she was not destined to know the details of this _final test_. 

Her eyebrows furrowed with concern and aggravation, Laura turned now to her own notes. She forced herself not to read every single line, because she knew all to well how easy it would be to immerse herself in the details. Instead, she scanned each sheet looking for the information that she'd originally sought. Almost an hour later, she finally found what she'd been looking for. 

Lucia Cortez.

Now that she saw the name in black and white, the implications hit home for her. Without having seen the missing pages from the other psychologist's notes, she could easily ascertain that this Lucia was the one that Frank had both been strongly attracted to and repulsed by. 

In his own words, he had once described the woman as both, "….a cold-hearted, scheming bitch" and "a luscious piece of fruit, waiting to be devoured." The dichotomy was chilling. 

__

….waiting to be devoured. 

She read those words over and over. 15 years ago, he had been more than willing to divulge every minute detail of their frequent, and sometimes violent couplings. His reason for doing so, at first, baffled her, but it soon became clear that he liked to see Laura uncomfortable, embarrassed and off balance. Just one more way he had of keeping their sessions together under his control.

__

….waiting to be devoured. 

She pushed the paper with those words on it away from her, and sat back in the chair. She stared at the sheet before her almost willing that it would turn to dust and blow away. The chill that had invaded her body earlier returned ten-fold. Wrapping her arms around herself, her thoughts turned dark and despairing. 

She trusted Frank, and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would always remain faithful to her, but then there was Luis…… Speaking of this alter ego as another person disturbed her. Could he possibly suppress his own will and personality so much that he would be able to betray what they had together? The question caused a piercing ache to develop in her heart. Rising quickly form the chair, she needed desperately to get away from this room and the files it contained. But as she pivoted to walk toward the door, she suddenly stopped. On a shelf across the room was a photograph in a wooden frame. Walking slowly toward it, she lifted her hand and flitted her fingertips across the glass' dusty surface. As she stared at the photo, a single tear fell from her eyes.

Lifting the picture from the bookshelf, she carried it with her as she unhurriedly left the room and returned to the main level of the house. Almost as if she were in a daze, Laura sauntered over to the living room sofa and sank into its comforting softness. Her gaze never once left the picture in her hands as she once more traced her fingers across its surface. 

It still seemed like just yesterday that she and Frank had married, and in the picture she saw their beaming smiles as testament of the love that the two shared. A love, that she knew was unbreakable…….or so she hoped. Twice they had walked through hell and lived to tell about it. And as she sank slowly to her side, her tears now falling freely down her cheeks and the picture clutched firmly to her chest, she prayed to God that he would deliver them from an even greater evil that she could just see beyond the horizon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just before 2:00 AM, the car carrying Frank, Lucia and Manuel slowed and turned down what appeared to be an abandoned dirt road. As the car continued further into the dense forest, Frank began to wonder if they had perhaps taken a wrong turn, but then he began to spot them……armed lookouts stationed every 50 feet or so along the drive. A half mile or so later, the car broke free from the surrounding jungle.

Pulling up in front of a rather elaborate 3 story mansion, the car finally stopped. Exiting the vehicle slowly, Frank never took his eyes off of the immense structure. Juan had indeed done very well for himself. Of course, he knew all to well, that this same house had belonged to the last cartel leader, and would more than likely go the next after someone got brave enough to take Juan out as well.

"Come, my friends," Manuel instructed as he walked from around the other side of the car. "Juan will be waiting for you."

"Perhaps we should wait until the morning," Frank suggested.

Manuel laughed heartily. "Luis…..have you remembered nothing of our compadre? It's still early! Did you ever know Juan to sleep before 4 AM or later?"

A knowing smile graced Frank's lips. He did remember. 4 AM? Dawn was more like it, and then, of course, he almost never went to bed alone. The thought made him pause, and he turned slightly to see Lucia following faithfully behind him. Holding out his hand, he waited until she grasped it. "Stay close," he murmured low enough for her ears only. A short nod told him that she understood.

The three entered through a giant set of wrought iron doors into what appeared to be a courtyard of sorts. Milling around within the area were some dozen or so men carrying semi-automatic weapons. Frank gave Manuel a quick look.

"A neighboring competitor made some inhospitable remarks a few nights ago. Juan made sure that the man knew the words were not appreciated," Manuel explained, but Frank read the hidden meaning. Another cartel leader had threatened Juan, and in turn Juan had sent a violent message in reply. The equivalent of saying 'fuck you', but instead he'd used bullets and grenades. So many heavily armed men so close at hand told Frank that Juan was expecting some sort of retaliation. Frowning heavily, he continued on as Manuel made his way into the house itself.

Once inside, Frank could hear laughter and music coming from a room a short distance away. Winding their way down a short hallway, the three emerged into a large sprawling living room. A half dozen or so overstuffed sofas and twice as many matching chairs filled the room, and on nearly every one was either another of Juan's armed guards or a half naked woman. 

Following the sound of laughter, Frank finally spotted the man himself. At the other end of the room, Juan was more than enjoying the efforts of a nubile young woman as she gave him an energetically erotic lap dance.

Manuel motioned for Frank and Lucia to stop as he approached Juan by himself. He leaned over and spoke quietly to his boss, who never took his eyes off of the young woman who now straddled his lap. Only after the song ended and the girl slid off him, did Juan finally turn his attention to his guests.

The look on Juan's face at first was unreadable, and Frank began to wonder if coming here had been a monumental mistake, but then a slow smile began to creep across Juan's features until his face was practically lit up with the brilliance of it.

"Luis!!" the man bellowed. "How the fuck are you, my friend?" he asked as he slowly stood from the chair and approached.

"Juan…..it's been a long time," Frank answered, now smiling himself.

"Too long," Juan agreed as he took Frank into a crushing embrace.

Frank appraised the man standing before him. Whereas Manuel had been worse for the wear, Juan was the exact opposite. An almost gangly youngster of barely 20 had turned into a strong, virile man who held an air of authority and power.

"You look good," Frank commented.

Juan smiled in appreciation. "So do you, but……" he paused as he held a hand up to ruffle Frank's short hair. "What the hell?"

Frank couldn't help but laugh. "What can I say? It's just too fucking hot here for all that hair."

"That I can understand." That said, his attention now turned to Lucia, who had been standing by patiently as the two men exchanged greetings. "Sooooo….._this_ is the lovely Lucia, eh?"

Lucia smiled nervously. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Juan laughed and said, "What is it with you two? No one remembers how to speak Spanish anymore?" he chided before taking her hand in his. "The pleasure is all mine," he told her while his eyes studied hers carefully. A sinister smile slowly graced his lips when he noticed that he was making her uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze.

Quickly turning away from Frank and Lucia, Juan motioned with his hands for several of the parties revelers to depart. "Come….please, sit…relax. We have much to catch up on. Perhaps you would like drinks, yes?" 

After a flurry of activity, the three finally sat down and made themselves comfortable. Looking nonchalantly around the room, Frank noticed that only a half dozen of Juan's armed guards remained, and all of the women were now gone.

"Sorry to break up your party," Frank offered.

Chuckling, Juan replied, "Mi amigo, that was no party, just a little late night entertainment," he explained, waving his hand as if the group of scantily clad women had meant nothing. "Besides, this is too important! I've been wandering around this house like a little boy waiting for you to arrive. Damn, Luis! It is so good to see you again."

Frank couldn't help but smile at Juan's seemingly genuine enthusiasm. "I think I've been anticipating this meeting as much as you have."

Juan moved then to sit on the coffee table facing Frank. Leaning forward, he dropped his voice so that only his two guests could hear. "You know me……you know that this is what I've dreamt of all my life," he explained as he swept his hand around the room, motioning to the opulence surrounding them. "But it has a high price, my friend. There are very few that I can really trust. But with the two of us working side-by-side once again, we can be invincible."

Frank nodded his head knowingly. "That's why I'm here. After 15 years of working for idiots, I'm finally back where I belong."

"You are indeed, Luis," Juan stated with a warm smile on his face. But that smile soon changed into something else……something dark and mischievous. "I have a present for you."

Frank's eyebrows furrowed even while he was still smiling. "A present? What the hell for?"

Juan began to laugh. "For your homecoming, idiot! You didn't think I would allow a momentous occasion like this to pass without a celebration of sorts, did you?"

"I don't want a celebration. I don't want any gifts. Welcoming me to your house is present enough," Frank stated humbly. 

"Well, nonetheless, a gift you will get. Two actually, but the second will come a bit later," Juan explained cryptically. Rising from his seat, he approached a table across the room and opened one of the drawers. Retrieving a large envelope, he returned to where he had been just seconds earlier. Sitting back down, he fingered the clasp to the item he held in his hands.

"You spoke of the 15 years you spent in the States working for men who had no appreciation for your talents." Juan paused to look up at Frank, who nodded in recognition. "That should have never happened. The way things went down….." he recalled, shaking his head sadly, "….how everything fell apart so suddenly…..for many years, I knew that there had to be something more to it. Some vital piece of information had been leaked. Someone had betrayed us."

Frank stared at the man before him, and didn't know quite what to make of what he was saying. Was Juan implying that he had been the source of the leak? And that this invitation was all some elaborate set-up for revenge? Before Frank had a chance to think things through any further, Juan continued.

"It has taken me many years, Luis, but I was finally able to pinpoint the person responsible for such atrocities."

"And?" Frank prompted, still not sure where Juan was going with this.

Juan smiled, although a bit sadly. "This is my present to you, my friend…..mi hermano. The one responsible has been eliminated." That said, Juan handed Frank the envelope.

Frank opened the clasp and could see that the envelope contained photographs. Sliding them out, he began looking at what Juan had presented to him. The pictures, which had obviously been taken with a telephoto lens, showed a man in his fifties walking into a downtown hotel. Frank looked up from the photos questioningly.

"This…." Juan pointed to the image that Frank was holding, "this is the man who was behind the whole operation. Do you recognize him?"

Frank looked at one or two more shots before responding. "No….should I?"

"You would have no reason to. That is unless you've been working for the US government all of these years," Juan joked. "His name is Raymond Marsh. He was a member of the CIA."

"CIA?" Frank asked anxiously. "You're kidding me. What the hell would the CIA have to do with a drug operation in Colombia? I thought this was the DEA's jurisdiction, so to speak."

"Indeed….what would the CIA have to do with us? Unless of course they'd sent in someone undercover."

Frank leaned back in the chair and stared at Juan. He didn't like the insinuation that someone close to them had been a mole. It bothered him….greatly, and it showed on his face.

"Luis…..look at the next photo," Juan prompted, seeing the upset on his friend's face.

Frank sighed heavily and did just that. The picture was of the same man, only this time he was lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor of his hotel room. "You did this?" Frank asked with great concern in his voice. 

Juan smiled. "I have certain…..connections. The matter has been dealt with. The man who caused your exile has been eliminated."

Frank rose from his chair and paced slowly about the room while he looked through the photos once more. Killing a CIA operative could bring serious if not fatal repercussions, but knowing that his friend had done so in order to avenge what had happened to him 15 years ago filled him with a sense of honor that he could not describe. Setting the photos down on the nearest table, he turned to Juan. "I will never be able to repay you for what you've done," he declared solemnly.

Juan also rose and walked toward where Frank was standing. "You and me, Luis. We are brothers. Although not born from the same family, our bond is thicker than blood. Together we will rule an empire." The two embraced once again, finding a kinship with the other that both had missed desperately.

Pulling away from Frank, Juan added. "There is one other thing, however. Tonight, I will eliminate the mole who betrayed us so many years ago." Reaching behind him, Juan pulled out a gun that had been stashed in the waistband of his pants. Pivoting quickly, he aimed the gun and fired. Lucia's face registered immeasurable shock as the bullet hit its mark…..directly in the center of her forehead. She was dead before her head hit the cushion of the sofa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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	17. The return

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Seventeen

Frank watched in shock and horror as Juan shot Lucia in cold blood. Reacting on instinct, self-preservation or otherwise, he quickly grabbed Juan's arm and began to wrestle the weapon away from his so-called friend. The two men ended up on the ground, each fighting for control of the gun.

A thousand scenarios filtered through Frank's stunned brain as the two continued their possible life and death struggle. This meeting had been a set up for some sort of revenge……..Juan had become paranoid and delusional……..and possibly, just possibly, Juan had told him the truth. 

If Frank had been able to spare a second or two to look around him, he would have seen the 6 or 7 guards in the room now circling the two men, all trying to jockey for position in order to take Frank out if given the opportunity. Juan, however, could see this, given his position on the floor. And through clenched teeth, he was barely able to say, "Noooooo……..back off…….all of you." The men looked from one to the other, but eventually did as their boss commanded.

As the struggle continued, Frank soon gained the advantage. Exerting pressure in just the right place near Juan's wrist, he forced the other man to drop the weapon. Once done, Frank quickly grabbed the gun and pressed it squarely to Juan's chest.

"So am I next on your list….old friend?!" he demanded, his voice revealing the myriad of questions floating through his over-stressed brain. Although now clearly in control of the situation, Frank was surprised to see how utterly calm Juan appeared to be. 

Frank continued to eye Juan suspiciously and his confusion escalated when the other man still refused to look in the least bit ruffled by the fact that Frank now presumably held all of the cards. Of course, Frank was more than aware of the fact that if he killed Juan, he himself would follow him in death mere seconds later. Why had Juan warned the other guards off?? The man almost looked as though he had expected just this reaction.

Easing himself up off the floor, Frank sat back on his heels and stared strangely at the man still lying prone on the floor. Of course, he still had a small advantage……he still held the gun which was squarely pointed at the center of Juan's chest. 

"Get up," Frank commanded and watched cautiously as Juan did just that. "Explain this to me."

Juan nodded. "I have proof, mi amigo. If you'll allow me," he explained as he turned toward a desk close by.

Frank was immediately behind him. Thrusting the cold, hard steel of the gun into the man's back, he nearly whispered, "I swear to God, Juan…..if you pull anything out of that desk other than paper, I will kill you without a second's hesitation."

Turning his head slightly, Juan could just see Frank out of the corner of his eye. "Of that I have no doubt, Luis. But please, let me just show you something before you pull that trigger."

When Frank didn't answer, Juan once again approached the desk. Sliding the top drawer open very slowly, he reached for an envelope that was contained within. From what Frank could see, no weapons of any type were visible, but he kept his guard up just the same. Retrieving the manila envelope, he slowly turned around in order to face Frank once more.

Juan looked to Frank, asking silently for permission to open the package. Frank nodded, signaling Juan to continue. Gradually the man pulled yet another stack of photos from inside. Once done, he turned the pictures so that Frank could see them for himself. What he saw on just the first photo made Frank frown furiously.

If the man in the other pictures had indeed been an agent for the CIA, then Lucia had no reason to have any sort of contact with the man. But in the picture before him, he clearly saw the two together, immersed in some sort of conversation. 

Without waiting, Juan continued to flip through the remaining photographs. Picture after picture showed the two together, on different occasions and in different places. After viewing such damning evidence, Frank's resolve slowly crumbled and an icy calm washed over him. He'd been betrayed, plain and simple. How many other plans had Lucia spoiled over the years? How many times had she run to this Marsh individual with relevant information? He'd been used…….a pawn for the CIA. The thought made his blood run cold. 

With little ceremony, Frank lowered the gun that he'd been holding and handed it off to the nearest of Juan's guards. He was ready to accept whatever punishment or recrimination he had coming to him due to his stupidity. He'd allowed his desire for the woman blind him, and that was unforgivable.

Juan watched as the man before him went from being angry and defensive to being sullen and defeated. "Do not blame yourself, my friend." Frank looked incredulously at Juan. "Luis….Luis…..Luis…..we've all been blinded at one time or another by our needs. Look at me. I know full well that another man is gathering forces as we speak in order to defeat me. And what have I been up to this evening?? Was I readying my own men? Was I preparing myself or this house for just such an attack?" Shaking his head, he walked toward Frank and put his arm around his shoulders. "No. I was doing none of those things. I was enjoying the company of a bevy of beautiful women." A mischievous smile graced his lips as he looked at the face of his remorseful friend. "In fact…….I believe we are both in need of such distractions now."

Frank turned his head to look at his old friend. He couldn't believe how cold-hearted and ruthless the man had truly become. Just minutes ago he had gunned down a woman and now…..well now, he was ready for the party to continue as if nothing happened. 

Juan sensed the hesitation and leaned closer. "Luis…..I know that the woman meant something to you. I'm not entirely blind. But I have also noticed that after all of these years you still had not made her your wife. So what was she to you?? Huh?" Without waiting for Frank to answer, he continued. "I'll tell you what she was…..just another body to warm your bed at night. She can be replaced, my friend. Easily." Without turning away from Frank he snapped his fingers and two of his men moved forward to take Lucia's body away. In fact, they took the sofa and all that she was still laying on. 

As the piece of furniture was removed from the room, Frank looked once more at the lifeless body of the woman who had been a part of his life for so many years. Her unmoving eyes stared straight ahead, the shock still registered in their catatonic orbs. Quickly averting his eyes, he noticed then that the room had begun to fill with the flock of women who had exited less than an hour ago. Had it really only been an hour since his whole world had been turned upside down? He'd come here, confident in his abilities and ready to get to work, but now…….now he had begun to doubt anything and everything about his life. How many other tragic errors had he made along the way and was still unaware of?

He had little time to dwell on such questions. Within minutes he found himself on one of the still ever present sofas with a drink in his hand, surrounded by 2 or 3 very curvaceous and seemingly willing young ladies. Frank looked to Juan and saw the man already immersed in an intimate exchange with 2 of his own female companions.

"Drink, mi amigo!" Juan commanded. "Tonight you are truly free from anything and everyone standing in your way. Relax….enjoy……tomorrow we will begin to build a new empire." Frank watched as Juan downed the drink in his hand and then grab the nearest woman and slid her onto his lap.

Staring at the drink in his own hand, Frank wondered how it could be that easy for him. But again, before he could contemplate things further, the dark haired beauty to his right reached for his glass, quickly emptied the contents into her mouth and brought her luscious lips to his own. As her tongue worked its way into his mouth along with most of the tequila that she had just drunk, he wondered for a second or two if indeed it could be so easy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Frank's head was reeling a bit from the 15 or so shots of tequila that he had downed. The room seemed to move of its own accord and he was fairly sure that nothing at all was wrong with the way things had turned out this evening. He was back in Colombia working with a man that he had admired so many years ago. He was also free from Lucia and her meddling. And to top it all off, he was more than enjoying the company of the woman who was now straddling his lap and eagerly licking her way down his nearly bare chest. 

Before anything could go further, the girl pulled away and turned to look at her boss across the room. Frank could barely hear what had been said, but before he knew it, he felt a pair of hands trying to rouse him from his nearly prone position on the couch. Opening his half-glazed eyes, he saw the girl trying desperately to help him come to his feet. It was only then that he noticed 2 things. The first was that it was almost dawn. The second was that he and the woman were the only ones left in the now deserted room. 

With some effort, he hauled himself up from the all too comfortable sofa and allowed the girl to lead him where she wanted. 

Down a series of twisting and turning hallways they went until she finally stopped at a doorway. Taking his hand once more, she led him into a spacious bedroom filled with some of the most opulent furniture he had ever seen. But before he could truly get a good look at the place, her mouth once again descended on his leaving no question as to her intentions or her reason for being there. 

For Frank, something had changed once he was alone with the girl. Images flitted through his inebriated mind. Images of Lucia reacting just as this wanton woman was now doing. He'd been used. No….more importantly, he had _allowed _himself to be used. Suddenly, the calmness that he had been wallowing in for the last couple of hours vanished only to be replaced by overwhelming anger at the betrayal. 

Grabbing the girl by the arms, he roughly pulled her away from him. Her face registered shock and fear. For the last couple of hours he had been putty in her hands, but suddenly a light blazed in his eyes that she had not seen before. His anger was palpable and she was swiftly afraid for her life. 

The rage built within him and seeped out of his pores along with the tequila that he had so willingly consumed throughout the evening. He silently vowed to never again allow himself to be used and manipulated. As he eyed the woman now trembling in his hands, he was strangely elated to see the panic in her wide-set eyes. For a few seconds, he considered sending her away, but he decided instead to use her first before discarding her. He needed an outlet for his rage and loathing, and the frightened girl would be of great use in being just that.

He pulled her against him roughly, taking her mouth almost savagely. She fought his attack as best as she could at first, but soon gave herself over to his onslaught. After minutes, he felt her melt against him and knew that he now controlled her. Pulling his mouth from hers, he noted her half-lidded eyes and dilated pupils. Once again taking hold of her upper arms, he forcibly tossed her up against the nearest wall. Once again the shocked look returned to her face. She had begun to think that whatever emotion had overcome him just minutes ago had passed over him, but she had been mistaken, and silently she sent up a prayer that she would survive the night.

Frank walked slowly toward her, never once taking his eyes from hers. He liked seeing the terror that dwelled there. He enjoyed being in control, knowing that he could do anything he wanted to her with no repercussions. 

Raising his hand, he slowly and almost gently caressed the side of her face and neck. He delighted in the mix of emotions that he saw flit through her eyes. It was a strange and curious mixture of desire and fear. 

His caress continued down to the top of the dress that she wore. His fingers toyed with the buttons that lined the front of her outfit and he once again noted that she was quickly losing her battle with her own longing. She feared him, but she wanted him just the same. 

Throughout the evening, one thing had been revealed to him. She wore nothing under the dress that she had on, and he decided it was high time that he saw what she had been so seductively hiding all night.

Bringing both of his hands to the collar of her dress, he quickly and almost painfully ripped the garment from her trembling form. An audible gasp escaped her lips as she now stood naked in front of him.

His eyes now drank in the sight of her. Her skin was soft, supple and called out to be touched and stroked. A call he was more than willing to answer. He forcefully brought his hands to her more than ample breasts and began to kneed them none-to-gently. At first she tried to fight off his touch but he soon could see and feel her response to him. He knew that she was trying to fight her arousal, but he was very aware that she was quickly losing the battle. 

As her heard rolled back against the wall and her eyes began to glass over, he moved one hand to the inside of her one thigh and quickly progressed to the jewel that she had hidden between her legs. 

Her eyes popped open and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips as he began to stroke her mercilessly. After but a few moments, he had her writhing against the wall, her breath now coming in shallow gasps as her climax neared. Her head once again lolled against the wall, her eyes now shut from the pleasure he was inducing with his touch. But he had other plans. Almost forcefully, he grabbed hold of her face with his free hand. He wanted to see her face. He wanted to see her as she succumbed to the wave of her orgasm. Although he could clearly still see the fear and near panic in her eyes, he also saw the undeniable passion that was building inside her. On and on he pleasured her until he felt the first contractions of her climax begin to overtake her. A strange sense of power overcame him as he watched her give in to her orgasm. 

As soon as the heat of the moment had passed, he withdrew his hands and walked away from her. Seating himself in a lounge chair across the room, he watched with some amusement as her legs seemed to give out from under her. She slumped to the floor as though her bones had turned to gelatin. After a few minutes she appeared to be recovering somewhat and looked for him. As soon as her eyes found him, she slowly maneuvered herself to her hands and knees and crawled across the floor towards him.

He was slightly amused by this turn of events and cocked his head to one side as he watched her progress. When she neared him, she ran her hands up his strong calves and thighs and positioned herself between his legs. With no assistance from him, she began to unbuckle his belt. She then stopped after doing so to see what his reaction would be to such a gesture. When she could read nothing in his face, she continued. Slowly, she unbuttoned the top button on his pants and gently began to unzip his pants. Again she looked to him for some sort of reaction, whether good or bad, but found none. He just continued to stare at her almost impassively. 

It wasn't until her hand actually landed on his stiff member did he react in some way. He inhaled deeply as her hand began to stroke him. After she successfully freed him from his pants, her mouth descended on the tip of him as she began to pleasure him with her mouth. 

During all of this, not once did he reach out to touch her in any way. He simply watched as she continued her efforts. She had a talent for this. He couldn't deny it as he felt his arousal begin to consume him, but something was wrong. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but at this moment, something was wrong. He, however, didn't stop her as she continued on. Within minutes, he began to feel the first signs of his impending climax. He thought for second or two about taking her, forcing her to the floor and ramming himself into her, but thought better of it. Instead he allowed her to finish what she had so willingly started. A few minutes more and a moan escaped his lips as he emptied himself into her welcoming mouth. Only until she had completed sucked him dry, did she finally remove her mouth from him. 

She stared at him expectantly, not sure what to expect as a result of her actions. He had certainly seemed to have enjoyed her efforts, but she was still unsure of what his next move would be. She didn't have long to wait to find out.

Almost instantaneously, the anger that had threatened to overwhelm him resurfaced. Suddenly the sight of her sickened him and he wanted her gone. As he stood, the girl fell back on the floor, fearing the look she once again saw in his eyes. Scurrying away from him, she cowered near the door as she watched him once again cover himself and rezip his pants. He stalked toward her and grabbed her under one arm hauling her trembling body up off of the floor. Without a word of explanation, he opened the door and threw her into the hallway. She scrambled to cover herself with the remnants of her torn dress as he slammed the door after her. 

Once alone, he began to pace throughout the room. Everything was wrong. Everything _felt_ wrong. Again, he couldn't name what it was that was bothering him, but suddenly he felt sick to his stomach and in dire need of a shower. Pacing into the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Minutes passed and still he stared at himself in the mirror almost as if he expected the man on the other side to provide the answers he so desperately sought. When no answers were forthcoming, he almost violently ripped his own clothes from his body and tossed them back into the adjoining bedroom.

Approaching to the shower, he turned on the water as hot as he could get it and got under the spray. Almost zealously did he scrub his body from head to toe and then over again seemingly trying to wash away whatever was bothering him. Was Lucia's death really at the heart of his discomfort and turmoil? He searched within himself and knew that in some way it was but that there was so much more. Something that hung just out of his reach. Now that the effects of the alcohol that he consumed were beginning to wear off, he hoped that the answers that he sought would be forthcoming. 

After a half hour or more, he finally emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a robe that he had found hanging on the back of the door. His mind was still in turmoil, but outwardly, he appeared to be much calmer. It had been ages since he had drunk so much. Perhaps his reactions this evening were simply a result of just that.

Shaking his head, he began to gather the clothes that he had so violently thrown all about. Picking up his pants, his wallet fell to the floor. Bending once again, he retrieved the item and opened it to replace the few items that had become dislodged as a result. 

A paper of some sort was sticking half in and half out of a slot behind one of his credit cards. Frowning slightly, he pulled it free and began to unfold it. Once open for him to see, his confusion multiplied ten-fold when he looked at what appeared to be a child's drawing. He could clearly make out what appeared to be a house and four figures standing in front of it. He then noticed something above the crayon rendition of the house. Some figure that he couldn't quite make out.

__

"That's Michael. He's an angel."

Frank shook his head furiously trying to dislodge the sound of the child's voice inside his head. Looking back at the picture, his heart began to race. He knew the voice…..he knew who the people were in the picture…….he knew…….

__

"That's you and Mommy, and Christopher and that," she said now pointing to the part that Frank had been unable to make out, "that's Michael. He's an angel."

Frank's hands began to tremble so badly that he could no longer see the picture that he was looking at. He squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to block out the images that threatened to overwhelm him. Faces…..voices…….places……..a touch ……a sound…….laughter…….

It all came back to him in the speed of light. He knew……..oh dear God, he knew……

He had betrayed everything and everyone, himself included. 

Collapsing to the floor, his legs now too weak to support him, he once again looked at the picture still clutched in his hands. Almost reverently he touched each of the figures that he saw there. Alicia……Christopher…….Michael…….and Laura…..the woman who had given him everything, meant everything to him. His heart actually hurt thinking how he had betrayed her. How he had betrayed everything that they had built together. 

As he sat on the floor in a motionless lump consumed by his own guilt, he failed to hear the commotion going on outside of the mansion. Gunfire could be heard along with explosions and excited shouts. But he heard none of it, his consciousness unable to register anything other than the image in the picture before him. 

The Colombian night was giving way to a violent dawn, and Frank Donovan was thousands of miles away, oblivious to it all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

A/N: My sincere apologies to everyone for taking so long to update this story. I'm afraid that real life has taken a toll on me this last month and a half. I'm trying my best to get through it and I hope that you stick with me as I work my way through this story. I can't promise multiple postings each week, but I'm going to try my best to post at least one chapter a week from here on out. Again, I thank you for your patience, and a special thanks to all who have written to me offering their support. Thank you!


	18. Flight

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Eighteen

Laura stared listlessly at the ceiling of the aircraft. As her mind wandered, she absently looked to her son, seated near the aisleway obliviously playing with the Gameboy he held in his hands. She then turned her attention to Alicia, who tried fitfully to sleep in the cramped seats while she rested her head on her mother's lap. Her two precious children……how little they understood what it was that their father was involved with at the moment. Somewhere deep inside of her, she envied their innocence.

For the last week or so, Laura had debated endlessly with herself about what to do next. Remaining at their house in Virginia seemed to be the best idea. After all, Christopher still had 2 weeks left of school. But the longer they stayed, the more restless and worried Laura had become. Finally, after talking first to the school's principal and then garnering her mother-in-law's take on the situation, Laura decided to head to Chicago with the children. There she would be able to have contact with Frank's former team members. She hoped that with their help, she would finally be able to get the information she so desperately sought. 

Sighing tiredly, she wondered if she would ever be able to sleep through the night until Frank returned to her safely. Since he had left, she was lucky if she'd been able to get 3 or 4 hours during any given night. The fatigue was wearing her down, not only physically but mentally as well. 

She tried repeatedly to reason with herself. Frank had been on countless missions since the two of them had been together. Never in all of those years had she ever worried about him like she did now. What was it about this mission that upset her? The fact that it was the CIA? That he was working deep undercover again? Or was it the fact that he was going back to a persona that she had known all too well? Pondering the issue further, she realized that it was the latter. What he had done during any other mission was completely unknown to her. Yes, from time to time, he had shared certain aspects of these assignments, but never had she known the "man" that he had become during those missions. Knowing who Luis Mendoza was unnerved her. More than she cared to admit.

Her reverie was interrupted by the announcement from one of the flight attendants informing them that they would soon be landing in Chicago. Gently she awoke her daughter, who begrudgingly allowed her mother to sit her upright and buckle her back up. Within a half hour, they finally touched down, and Laura silently prayed that she had made the right decision in coming there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thousands of miles away, Frank Donovan was in the middle of a war zone, although at the moment he was oblivious to anything save the child's picture he held in his trembling hands and the extreme guilt that was gnawing away at his soul. He still was reeling from the flood of memories that had brought him to his knees just seconds before. 

As he continued to kneel on the floor, the door to the room suddenly flew open as a very overwrought Juan Jimenez came bursting in.

"Luis! We must leave NOW!!" he shouted as he rushed past Frank in order to gain a better view out the second story window. Shielding himself as best as he could, he carefully peeked out of the glass panes toward the courtyard below. What he saw made him cringe. The bodies of so many of his men littered the pavement, leaving little doubt that this particular "war" would be over all too soon, and unfortunately he and his friend would be lucky to get out with anything but their own skins.

Once he had adequately assessed the damage, he returned his gaze to the man still kneeling on the floor. For a second or two, his concern for his friend overcame his insistence that they leave immediately. "Luis?" When Frank made no move to acknowledge his presence, another type of panic gripped his gut. "Luis…..what is it? What is wrong, my friend?" 

Frank slowly swiveled his head in order to fully view the man clutching a semi-automatic machine gun standing at the window. For more than a few seconds, he had a hard time remembering who he was (or was supposed to be). But agonizingly slowly, his memory began to clear and he finally remembered.

He was on a mission, and the man standing before him, looking at him with such concern, was the exact reason that he had been sent in. His mission had been to get as close as possible to Juan Jimenez, to gather as much information as possible and then to make a getaway in order to bring that information back to the Justice Department, leaving the actual take-down to another outfit.

Juan watched the extreme play of emotions cross his friend's face. In the minute or so that he regarded him, he saw intense sorrow, anger, confusion, and a seemingly devastating display of helplessness. For a second or two, he too became oblivious to what was transpiring around them, and walked toward Frank, intent on offering his friend whatever support was needed. This seemingly selfless act would be his undoing. For when he walked not five feet away from the window, the glass in the window behind him shattered, and Juan immediately fell toward Frank as he collapsed onto the floor in a heap.

The panic of the situation snapped Frank out of his mental limbo, and he scurried to Juan's side. Even with no medical background, Frank could tell that Juan was not long for this world. The blood loss was catastrophic and the man would bleed to death within minutes or even seconds. 

As Frank stared at Juan with an almost detached sense of involvement, he couldn't help but feel a nearly suffocating cloud of anger settle over him. The man dying before him was his only reason for being at this particular place at this particular time. In less that 24 hours, the so-called mission had unraveled and dissolved. Everything he had sacrificed…….his marriage, his relationship with his children and even his very soul, had been for nothing. If the CIA had simply left Juan alone, he would have self-destructed in a matter of days or weeks. Frank's presence had never really been needed.

But even as those thoughts bounded through his troubled mind, there was also a tiny voice in the back of his head that told him that he should feel something for the man who was now just seconds away from drawing his last breath. A long time ago, he and Juan had forged a type of bond……there were brothers, or so they had declared. Had that really meant nothing? Was all of it just part of some façade? As Frank watched Juan's life drain away, he honestly could say that no…..not all of it was an act. A part of him, a part that Frank had buried long ago, was truly saddened by this turn of events. Although what Juan did for a living was abhorrent, there was still a part of him that Frank liked and admired. And for those qualities alone, Frank knew that a part of him would mourn Juan's passing, just as the rest resented the fact that he had been pulled back into this type of existence because of him.

Frank watched helplessly as Juan attempted to mumble something. No intelligible sound escaped his mouth, only the gurgling of the blood that bubbled up from within him. Within seconds, it was over, and Juan stared lifelessly at the ceiling above Frank's head. With an uncharacteristic gentleness, Frank closed his old friend's eyes. "Goodbye, Juan," he whispered as he did so. 

Closing his own eyes and sighing in defeat, Frank tried to get a handle on just one more strange turn of events that his life had taken in the last few weeks. It seemed like just yesterday that his life had had a semblance of normalcy. Had it really only been mere days since he had last seen his children……that he'd last held his wife?

Laura……. For a few precious seconds, he allowed himself the luxury of imagining her there with him……holding her, feeling her arms around him as she tried her best to comfort him. He could almost feel the soft warmth of her body as she held him…..here…..in this room…..the room where he had allowed himself to betray her. 

His eyes flew open and a visible tremor passed through his body. For those few seconds, he had lulled himself into forgetting what he had done. He deserved no comfort……no absolution. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to shake away the guilt. 

Slowly….ever so slowly, the reality of his current situation began to filter into his awareness. The first thing that he became aware of was the sound of gunfire. Furrowing his brow, he slowly stood and almost obliviously stepped over Juan's now lifeless body as he made his way toward the shattered window. As he walked in that direction, he became aware of one more thing….blood. He looked down at the still warm, sticky wetness that surrounded his still bare feet. Grimacing in disgust, he returned his attention to the outside world. Just as he reached the window, a high-pitched whistling sound pierced his hearing, followed by the sound of splintering wood behind him. He had been shot at, and judging by the brief disturbance of air near his head, he knew it had been close. 

Sheltering himself by the side of the window, he did much as Juan had done mere minutes ago. He carefully craned his neck in order to get a decent look outside. The first thing he saw was snipers positioned in the trees across the courtyard. The second was the number of dead bodies scattered here and there throughout the courtyard. The battle had evidently been swift and bloody. Swiveling his head back around, Frank stared down at Juan as he lay on the floor, and silently added, _Swift…..bloody, and obviously successful. _

A voice in the back of his head began to incessantly tell him that he needed to get out, and quickly. The so-called enemies outside had no idea who he really was, a US federal agent and not one of Juan's cohorts. Frank thought sarcastically that, to be honest, they would willingly kill him either way. No….he needed to leave as quickly and quietly as possible. 

Putting all other thoughts aside, he began to prepare himself for his escape, and the first order of business was to get dressed and to procure what he would need for his flight. 

Now hunched over, hoping to hide as well as he could from outside view, Frank began to scurry throughout the room, gathering his clothes. He quickly dressed and looked once more at Juan's prone body. Lying next to him was the weapon that he had been carrying when entering the room. Knowing that he had little other choice, Frank once more approached Juan. Doing his best to keep out of the pool of now thickening blood, Frank retrieved the weapon, checked to make sure that it was indeed fully loaded, and turned to leave through the open doorway. With one more look back, Frank began his escape. 

Inch by painstaking inch, he crept as soundlessly as possible toward what he assumed was the back staircase. When he had traversed those same stairs not hours ago, he had been heavily under the influence of alcohol. Knowing that, he also was more than aware that his shoddy memory could be playing tricks on him. Little did he know that he was heading in the exact opposite direction. All too quickly, he arrived at the top of the a set of stairs, the ones near the front entrance to the house. Cursing under his breath, he listened helplessly to the chatter of the men stationed in the front hallway. Men who were _not_ part of Juan's contingent. Just as he turned to head in the opposite direction, hoping to backtrack before being spotted, Frank began to hear voices coming from the hallway he had just exited. Weighing his options, he chose to confront the group waiting down on the floor below. In doing so, he hoped to take them off guard.

Again, relying on years of undercover training, Frank almost silently descended the stairs. Now almost halfway down, he could begin to see the activity going on around the main floor. What he saw surprised him and he very nearly chuckled at loud. The group of men gathered there had already begun celebrating their victory. A few bottles were being passed among the 10 or so gathered together in the room to the right of the foyer. The atmosphere was light and smiles abounded. The situations was perfect, at least in Frank's eyes. Obviously not prepared for any further resistance, the men had let their guard down.

Eying the open door not 20 feet away, Frank carefully began to gauge the time to make his departure. Keeping a watchful eye on the revelers, he slowly began to inch his way to the outside, and, hopefully, to freedom. However, just as he was about to make a break for it, the walkie talkies that practically every man carried, suddenly sprang to life. A voice on the other end triumphantly announced that Juan's dead body had been found. The cacophony of jubilant whoops of joy filled the air as the celebration began in earnest. Then, while the group was so obviously preoccupied, Frank made a break for it. 

Once outside, he dove behind some foliage near the entrance. Again, as carefully as he could, he snuck a peek at what surrounded him. The guards were few and far between, but not so dispersed that his getaway would be effortless. No, he would still need to work at this in order to get out in one piece. Once off the estate's grounds, and into the surrounding dense jungle, Frank knew that his chances of escape went up exponentially. Silently offering a prayer that some other distraction would aid his flight, he did his best to observe the men keeping guard, hoping to catch something that he could use to his advantage. 

Inside the mansion, however, the party had taken a decidedly somber turn. When the noise had died down enough after Juan's death had been announced, the celebrants were informed that obviously someone else had been in the room when Juan had been shot. Bloodied footprints had been found on the floor leading to and away from the man's body. This other _someone_, was still unaccounted for. As the news sunk in, orders were given to search the property once more in earnest.

Frank was nearly caught, when a man exited the house and called to the guards near the driveway. Hiding as best as he could, Frank listened in to what was being said. Instantly, he knew that he may have made a fatal error. In his shock induced stupor, he had stupidly walked through Juan's blood and left evidence of his presence behind. As he cowered in the bushes, he tried to recall if he'd made any other errors. He knew that he had remembered to grab up his wallet, but was there anything else?

Alicia's picture…….

Squeezing his eyes shut, the now familiar pang of guilt made itself known once more. But even worse, in his haste to leave, he had dropped the paper and knew that possibly, at this very moment, the item had been found. What would these men think of his daughter's drawing? Would they think it incredibly odd, or just another insignificant piece of paper? Would they associate such an item with any of Juan's men or would it seem strangely out of place? Silently berating himself for being so careless, he almost missed the orders being given to the guards. They were to spread out and begin searching the perimeter of the house. Only two guards were to remained stationed at the front. Thanking whatever deities he could think of, he knew that his chances of escape had just increased dramatically.

Once the other men dispersed, Frank knew that he only had a short amount of time to slip into the woods, hopefully, undetected. If at any point, his weapon would be needed, he knew that he might as well announce his presence over a loud speaker. 

Once more, he studied the men pacing to and fro. Although they seemed to be paying attention to what was happening around them, Frank thought that they appeared to be something less than duly vigilant. Their so-called victory was making them lax. Again, Frank said a prayer of thanks. 

After several minutes, Frank saw his opening and readily took it. While both men had their backs turned, pacing in opposite directions, Frank quickly scurried for the cover of the foliage some 30 feet away. Once there, he quickly turned to see if his flight had been detected and was relieved to see everything as it should have been. 

Waiting a short while longer, he began the meticulous trek through the jungle and underbrush. From what he could recall from the night before, he knew that he had quite a long haul back to the main road. And even once there, he knew that trouble could still be waiting for him. So with his senses on high alert, he set off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some three hours or more later, he could see the trees thinning ahead of him. Sweating heavily, exhausted and thirsty beyond belief, he emerged from the cover of the jungle. Sighing in relief, he was overjoyed to see that the road was clear. All along the journey, he had continued to hope that the search still remained back at the house and the surrounding grounds, and obviously it had.

Now that he was in the clear, he knew that he still wasn't out of danger or anywhere near safety. And more importantly, he was still many miles from the nearest civilized city or town, someplace where he could possibly get transportation out of Colombia. First things first, however, he needed to find somewhere to rest and to get water. Looking left and right, he saw no vehicles traveling in either direction. Knowing that it was not a good idea to linger too long, he set out in the direction where they had come from the previous evening. 

A short while later, Frank could here a truck rumbling up the road behind him. Ducking once more for cover, he waited until he could get a good view of the vehicle before once more reemerging into the open, since he was still not convinced that he wouldn't be followed. As the truck crested the hill some 100 yards away, Frank was relieved to see just another dilapidated, heavily rusting farm vehicle, much like the ones that you saw through any of rural Colombia. 

As he stood and began to approach the road, he paused as he remembered that he was still carrying the weapon that he had taken from Juan's dead body. Looking down at the rifle, he pondered whether he should discard it, knowing that if the driver saw him with such an item that he would never stop. Reluctantly, he dropped the weapon, hoping that he wasn't making a huge mistake. After doing so, he approached the side of the road and began to flag down the truck as he neared him.

Thankfully, the driver did indeed stop for him, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, Frank explained that his car had broken down some miles back and that he was walking to get help at the nearest town. The driver explained that he was heading to a small town to the north of Bogotá called Tataca. Frank knew roughly where the town was and that he would, more than likely, be able to get a lift into Bogotá from someone else. Thanking him for his kindness, he settled back and watched the scenery pass by him, calming slightly as the miles went by.

A few hours later, the truck came upon the small town of Tataca, population much less than 5,000 people. Exiting the vehicle, Frank stretched his overworked muscles and surveyed his surroundings. As he had suspected, the small municipality was slightly run down and looked to be almost deserted. He knew better, however. During the peak of the afternoon, only fools ventured out into the torturous heat. Fools, tourists, and a few unfortunate workers. Thanking the driver once more, he was directed to a nearby cantina where he was told there was a public telephone. Nodding in gratitude, he moved toward the establishment, hoping that he could also find a bite to eat and a very large glass of something cold and refreshing.

Entering the building, he noted that the place looked like just about every other cantina he had ever been in over the years….clean, neat, and anything but fancy. This wasn't one of the flashy restaurants that proprietors opened to attract tourists. This was a place to eat and talk with your fellow neighbor, a place to reconnect with the people in the village. However, at this time of the day, the place was nearly deserted. In one of the corners was a table with 2 elderly gentlemen quietly playing some sort of game, and other than that, he had his choice of tables. He chose to approach the bar where the only other inhabitant, the owner, he assumed, was carefully wiping down glasses. 

His quest for escape suddenly not so imperative, Frank decided to forgo his requests for information and decided to settle on a drink first. Settling himself at the bar, he surprised even himself when he ordered a beer and asked the owner to keep them coming. 

Again the tiny voice inside his head said that this was not the time or place to get shit-faced, especially after the events of the previous evening, but something compelled him to drown himself in alcohol for just one more night. Perhaps the guilt he was carrying around was just too much. Maybe he knew that he would have precious little time to indulge himself in his self-pity for any time to come. Whatever the reason, he downed half of his first bottle of beer in one gulp and decided that it was the best thing that he'd ever tasted. 

Hours and nearly a dozen bottle later, Frank stared hazily at the reflection of himself in the faded and slightly cracked mirror behind the bar. Once more, he was having that sort of out-of-body reaction to his own visage. Somewhere after the fifth or eighth beer, he had decided that the real reason why he needed this was because he couldn't stand the sight of himself anymore. The longer he drank, the more unclear the reasons for that became. Oh, if he concentrated hard enough, he could remember all of it. What he had done with the woman last night…..how he had touched Lucia and how much he had wanted to do so much more. He remembered Juan showing him pictures of Marsh's dead body. He recalled the sickening look of shock in Lucia's eyes when Juan had shot her dead right in front of him. All of it…..all of it he could recall in vivid detail if he allowed himself. But right now…..at this moment…..he didn't want to remember. The guilt for all of it surrounded him, enveloped him, hung like a suffocating cloud over his head. It colored everything that he looked at, tasted and touched. Silently, he wondered if even recalled everything. Perhaps there was some other atrocity that lay just out of his reach, something that he couldn't quite………

The bottle he was holding stopped halfway to his lips, and he remained frozen in the position. His heart felt like it had just stopped beating and he could have sworn that his blood just turned to ice water. There was something. A foggy image floated in and out of his alcohol soaked brain. The longer he tried to focus on whatever it was, the more sure he became that he _really _didn't want to remember. Some inner voice told him to go back to drinking and to forget whatever it was that he thought he was remembering. That voice was soon silenced when the image that he had been trying to concentrate on suddenly became crystal clear.

__

Terrified eyes looked back at him as he pointed the gun at her. Without a second thought and without a second's hesitation or reservation he fired. His conscience devoid of any sort of guilt or remorse, he watched as she slumped back into the arms of the men holding her. 

Dropping the bottle and standing unsteadily, Frank backed away from his reflection as if in doing so, the vision would fade and take the agonizing guilt along with it. He'd shot her, gunned her down in cold blood…..an innocent. Her only crime being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He stared at the haggard image of himself in the mirror and whispered the girl's name.

"Nina……."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

A/N: Once again, I must apologize for how long it's taken to update this story. It just seems like one thing after another is keeping from working on this for any stretch at a time. Thanks again for being so patient!! 


	19. Hope and damnation

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Nineteen

Laura and the children wound their way through the crowded airport, making their way to the baggage claim area. Jake had told Laura that one of them would be able to meet them there and take her and the children into town. And sure enough, just as they passed the security checkpoint, Laura heard her name called out over the din. 

Looking around, at first she couldn't tell where the voice had come from. Glancing this way and that, she finally spotted Jake as he smiled and waved at her. With children in tow, she made her way to him. 

"Hey you," she greeted him before he enveloped her in his warm embrace. It felt good to be back in Chicago, and that surprised her. Throughout the trip, she had wondered if being here once again would trigger memories that she just as soon not deal with at the moment, but she was pleasantly surprised. The doubts melted away, and were replaced by feelings of belonging. Suddenly she knew that she had made the right decision in coming back to Chicago. Here, she and the children would be surrounded by people who cared about them and, more importantly, that could help her find out the information that she so desperately sought.

Jake released her and immediately turned his attention to Christopher and Alicia. "Hey guys! Did you have a good flight?" he asked them. Christopher gave a nod and a smile, but something in his manner told Jake that Christopher Donovan wasn't exactly thrilled with his current situation. Jake glanced at Laura, who merely shrugged in response to the question she saw in Jake's eyes. Although Christopher had made monumental strides in the last week or so, he still hadn't quite forgiven his father and it still colored everything he said or did. Jake smiled slightly. He himself having been abandoned as a child, and he certainly could understand at least a little of what Christopher was feeling right now.

Jake then turned his attention to the youngest Donovan. As usual, Alicia was more or less hiding behind her mother. The crowded airport was intimidating enough for her, but seeing Jake again after such a length of time, Alicia needed a bit of time to warm up to him again. She peered around Laura and gave Jake a timid smile. Jake, in turn, winked and smiled at the shy girl. 

Turning his attention back to Laura, he grabbed the rather heavy looking carry-on resting near her feet and slung it over his shoulder. "Jesus, Laura….what _didn't_ you bring with you?" he asked her teasingly. 

"Ha ha…..very funny. Contrary to what anyone else believes, I do not over pack! You try traveling with two children someday, bub, and then tell me that everything in there isn't absolutely necessary."

Jake smiled at Laura's fake indignation. After Laura grabbed Alicia's hand, the four set off for the baggage claim carousel. As they walked along, Jake pitched his voice lower and finally asked Laura, "So how are you really doing?"

Laura sighed tiredly and glanced at Jake as he walked next to her. "Honestly…..I've been better. I don't know what it is, Jake," she answered in the same hushed tone. "I just know that something isn't right. I don't know how I know it, but I just do."

If Jake had heard those same words from just about anyone else, he would have dismissed them without even a second thought, but he knew Laura. Knew how she thought. Knew what kind of life she and Frank had lived the past decade or so. This wasn't a woman who caved into excessive worry. She was a strong independent woman, accustomed to getting around and doing without a man there beside her 24-7. For a second or two, he considered that maybe what happened a year and a half ago had somehow colored her judgment. After all, it wasn't everyday that you get buried alive under tons of rubble, only to get saved at literally the last minute. Maybe the experience had left her with a more fierce attachment to her husband. If that had been the case, he wouldn't have blamed her, but somehow, he didn't think that was what was causing this reaction. 

"Well…..now that you're here, maybe we can help get some answers for you," he told her.

She swiveled her head and stared at him intently. "You've heard something, haven't you?" Something in his tone, the pitch of his voice……something told her that he already knew…._something_.

Jake sighed, and wondered how to relay what he'd been told. "Laura…..we've only just started."

"What exactly does that mean?" she asked with just a hint of irritation in her voice.

"It means that we have to remember who we're dealing with. Although the FBI and CIA are both part of the Justice Department, it doesn't mean that either faction likes telling the other its secrets."

"Ahhh….in other words, no one likes to share toys in the sandbox."

"Something like that."

The four continued on a little further before Laura finally asked the question that Jake had been dreading. "So what exactly did they say?"

Jake slowed and then finally stopped. Laura turned back toward him and saw the look on his face. A look that she could only describe as being hesitant and slightly frustrated. "Jake?"

"They really couldn't tell me much of anything."

Moving closer to him, she asked, "Again, what exactly did they tell you?"

Knowing that she wouldn't let it go, he knew that he might as well get it over with. "They said…….Laura……all they said was that…….that they've lost communication with Frank." He stopped to gauge her reaction to what he'd just told her, and was surprised to find her face unreadable. 

"Is that it? Is that all they've said?" she asked anxiously, as she tried desperately not to give in to the panic seizing her gut.

"No…..that's not all," he replied begrudgingly. 

"Jake, just tell me. I deserve to know."

"Ah hell….." Jake muttered, as he shuffled his feet nervously. He glanced at the two children and then looked back to Laura's pleading face. "Maybe this isn't the best time to be discussing this," he offered, hoping to buy more time.

"No…..whatever it is. Tell me now," she demanded in return. She knew he was probably right. A crowded airport was not the best place to be discussing this, but she knew that if he didn't tell her what he knew right now, by the time they got into town, she would probably make herself sick with worry.

"Alright, alright," he finally relented. Lowering his voice so that neither of the children could hear him, Jake finally gave in. "Juan Jimenez is dead, Laura. The man that Frank was sent in to gather information about is dead. His compound was attacked sometime yesterday."

Laura's eyes momentarily lost focus and Jake watched as some of the color drained from her face. "And Frank?" she asked slightly above a whisper as what he told her slowly sunk in. She finally turned her eyes to Jake's and he could see the tears beginning to shimmer there.

"DEA has been monitoring the situation. There's been no word on Frank's whereabouts. But there's something you should know, Laura."

Blinking away the tears, she took a calming breath and finally responded. "What is it?" 

"The operatives working in the area all admit that the situation is volatile at best. What we've been told could be totally or partially inaccurate. Maybe it was some sort of minor skirmish. Maybe Jimenez has been injured and he's not really dead. Maybe Frank was at the compound when it was hit, and maybe he wasn't. The point is Laura….at this point, no one knows for sure," he told her as he gently grasped her arms, hoping that she would remain calm enough to see his point.

She stared at Jake for a few moments before she responded in an eerily calm voice. "So in other words, right now, my husband could be lying dead in some Colombian jungle, and there's no one who can tell me for sure if I'm a widow or not."

Jake slowly released his hold on her and stared at the woman before him. Her voice belied a quietness that he was sure was a cover-up. Her words, however, stung. Stung as though she had just slapped him across the face. He didn't have any answers and was immediately sorry that he had told her everything. How easy it would have been to lie. To tell her that he'd heard nothing. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried desperately to erase the look he'd just seen in her eyes, a look so cold and lifeless. Possibly as lifeless as Frank's body. 

His eyes flew open at the thought. Frank wasn't dead……in trouble perhaps. But he refused to believe that after everything that Frank Donovan had been through in his life, he would finally be taken down in some senseless Colombian drug war. Men like Donovan deserved more….they deserved better.

"He's not dead, Laura," he stated as he once more took a hold of her. "Look at me," he pleaded, seeing the hopelessness on her face as she stared off into nothing.

Laura was jolted back to reality. She had allowed herself to imagine what life without Frank would be like. Hollow….empty. When Jake demanded her attention once more, she looked at the younger agent and saw a new fire and determination in his eyes. Something had happened to him…..something that she hadn't sensed mere seconds ago. Something that pulled at her soul and made her believe that perhaps there was still hope.

"I don't know how," he began, "but we will find the answers we need, even if it means that I have to go down to Colombia myself."

"Jake…." she began before losing her voice completely.

"I mean it Laura. We'll get those answers. I'm not going to sit by and let those bastards write off Frank like he means nothing. I won't let them do that to you or this family. Do you hear me?"

The tears returned to Laura's eyes as she threw her arms around Jake's neck and hugged him fiercely. This was exactly what she needed. She needed someone to care as much about Frank as she did. 

As Christopher and Alicia looked on a bit perplexed by their mother's actions, Laura's heart lifted just a bit. If she had had any doubts at all about coming back to Chicago, Jake's declaration squelched those fears and replaced them with a tentative sense of hope. With Jake's assistance, maybe everything would be all right. Maybe………

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just as Laura and the children landed in Chicago, Frank was readying to leave Colombia. After his revelation in the cantina the day before, Frank was now on a mission to disprove what his distorted memory told him was true. 

After recalling that he had shot Nina, he had sobered quickly and had tried desperately for the rest of the night to recall any further details. What disturbed him more than anything else was exactly how unclear those details were. Why had he shot her? What possible reason could there have been to take her life? All he could remember was where he had been and that she had been held by two men as he drew his gun up and fired. Who the men were was a mystery, as was what had happened to her after he had pulled the trigger. So, late into the night, after he had secured a room to rest in, he planned exactly how he would find out the truth.

For some reason, he felt the need to keep his whereabouts a secret for awhile longer. Perhaps it was his mistrust of those that had sent him here…..those that had sanctioned Marsh's actions in procuring his involvement in this meaningless operation. Or maybe…..just maybe……a very real part of who Luis Mendoza was still ruled his actions. Dictating that he use the less than legal means of getting around. He still had certain contacts in this country. Men who would ask few questions if he wanted to ride along on their next flight to the states. A flight on a small aircraft that would be loaded with marijuana, cocaine or some other illegal substance bound for Florida and then parts unknown. So it was with this new found determination, that he would make his way to a small town outside of Barranquilla. 

When dawn came the next morning, Frank went in search of some means of transportation. This time to the north instead of to the south and to Bogotá, as he had originally planned. Thankfully, the same man who had brought him to this small town was heading north as soon as his supplies were loaded onto his truck. With Frank's help, they were on their way before 7 in the morning. 

The man told Frank that he would take him as far as he could, which ended up being almost halfway to his destination. Thanking him for his help and generosity, Frank got comfortable and silently prayed that he would be able to find a ride for the rest of his journey. He also hoped that the man that he sought near Barranquilla still lived in the area, and more importantly, that he hadn't found another line of work.

Luck was with Frank that day. Shortly after arriving at a small farmer's village, Frank was able to procure another ride, this time as far as he needed to go. And shortly before dusk that evening, he was exactly where he needed to be, a town called Galapa, some 25 miles south of Barranquilla.

Walking through the small town, he prayed, yet again, that he hadn't made a huge mistake in seeking out an old acquaintance. Some twenty minutes or so later, he arrived at a small house on the outskirts of the village. With great caution, he approached the residence, hoping beyond hope that the man he had know some 15 years ago still lived in this very house. 

Before he reached the front steps, however, he heard the unmistakable sound of a bullet being chambered in a rifle. Freezing immediately, he slowly turned toward the source of the sound, taking great pains to not appear hostile to the rifle's owner.

As he completed his turn, he could barely make out a figure just at the edge of the property. Unfortunately, with the failing light, he was at a distinct disadvantage. Frank stood there for a few seconds more, hoping that the man would see that he was no threat and finally lower the weapon. What happened next, he could have never expected. He heard laughter.

Frank's eyebrows knit together in some sort of confusion. Whoever was holding him at gunpoint, somehow found the situation funny. Was he dealing with some sort of deranged psycho, or……

Before he could ponder the situation further, he heard a voice. "¿Luis….qué demonios te ha ocurrido en el pelo?" [Luis…..what the hell happened to your hair?]

Frank visibly relaxed. He'd found the man he was looking for. Before he could answer, he was approached by a balding man in his late 40's, a man who now held the same rifle that Frank had heard just minutes before, harmlessly at his side.

"Demetrio……how are you, you old buzzrd?" Frank asked in return.

The man threw back his head and laughed until his sides hurt. Some moments later, when he had finally regained his composure, he asked in between labored breaths, "What are you doing here, Luis? For Christ's sake…I thought you were dead."

Frank shook his head knowingly. "I know, I know…..so did I," he answered with some truthfulness. "I don't mean to be abrupt, Demetrio, but I need your help."

Demetrio Acosta immediately sobered and asked with great concern, "What is it? The law?"

"Something like that. I need to get to the states as soon as possible."

"And the fact that you are not going by commercial airline means that you're hiding from something." But before Frank could answer, Demetrio waved his hand in defiance. "Don't tell me! I haven't gotten this far in this business by asking questions or by listening to explanations that I have no stomach for. That you need my help is enough reason for me." Motioning for Frank to follow, the two headed for the house. "When do you need to leave?"

"Would daybreak be too early?" Frank asked hesitantly.

Demetrio stopped on the first step of the porch and turned to look at Frank. "That bad, is it?" Again he waved his hand at Frank. "Like I said….don't tell me. As it turns out, I'm leaving on such a trip tonight. Would that be too early for you?"

"Not at all. I can be ready whenever you are," Frank answered, not even believing his good luck. If he had been a few hours later, he would have missed the man entirely.

"Good. Let's get together some food and such and we'll be on our way. And let me just tell you, my friend, it will be nice to have someone along on such a long journey for a change." 

Less than an hour and a half later, Demetrio's small plane took off from a nearly abandoned airstrip some two miles away. Within minutes, they began to make their way over the Caribbean Sea as they headed toward their first stop, near Ocho Rios, Jamaica. There they would refuel and after a brief rest, continue their journey…..a journey of some 2000 or more miles. Miles that would bring Frank Donovan closer and closer to discovering the truth. A truth that would either set him free or condemn his soul to hell. 

Some 10 hours later, the plane landed on an airstrip west of Miami. Actually, the word airstrip was an exaggeration. The place was no more than a level, cleared piece of land with dirt stripes across it. It was anything but fancy, but it served its purpose, which was to land a plane carrying contraband. 

Frank and Demetrio exited the plane and stretched their tired muscles. It had been a long flight, both emotionally and physically as far as Frank was concerned. As much as he wanted to know the truth, a very real part of him was dreading the moment he would verify any part of what had happened. However, now that he was back in the states, he had begun to hope that all of what he remembered was simply another nightmare. Perhaps even something that he'd been told that he had done but was all just another part of this alter ego. 

Frank's reverie was broken when he heard the approach of vehicles. He immediately reached for the weapon that Demetrio had given him for protection, but he relaxed when his friend placed his hand on his arm, signaling that he knew who these people were. Reluctantly, Frank lowered the weapon, although he still stood poised for action. Within seconds, two Jeeps pulled up next to the small plane and three men exited the vehicles. Pleasantries were exchanged between Demetrio and the three, while Frank stood back and observed the interaction. 

Demetrio then turned and approached Frank. "I have a surprise for you, mi amigo. The second car is for you. I know that whatever has brought you here has been weighing heavily on your mind, and that you need to attend to it quickly."

Frank was shocked. First, because he hadn't realized that he was so readable, and second, because of the generosity of a man he hadn't seen for more than a decade. "Demetrio….I can't…." he began before he was interrupted.

"You can, and you will. Go," the other man said, motioning for Frank to leave . "Go, and perhaps one day you can return the kindness," Demetrio told him with a warm smile.

Frank did his best to return the smile, seeing as he was still overwhelmed by the offering. Knowing that this was an incredible break in his continuing journey, Frank nodded his head once toward his friend, and turned to leave, climbing into the waiting vehicle. With one more look and a short wave of his hand, he took off.

As the miles ticked by, Frank was now thoroughly entrenched in his mission. He needed to find out the truth of what happened or didn't happen, and there was only one place to start……the compound where he had been taken after he left his home in Virginia. 

His home…..it seemed impossibly far away at this very moment. Emotionally, he was in turmoil. There were so many things that he wanted to remember about his life before….before he'd gone back to Colombia……before his betrayal. Shaking away those thoughts, he made himself concentrate on the mission at hand. He needed to find out what had really happened, and with a steely determination, he drove on.

It was almost nightfall by the time he turned into the long drive that led to the nearly abandoned structures. The place felt different somehow. How, he couldn't really say. After a few minutes more, he pulled the vehicle around to the front of the main building, the one that had housed the monitoring equipment as well as Marsh's office. Again, he was struck with an odd feeling. Looking around for a minute or two more, he realized what it was….the place was deserted. Now that the sun was going down, he could tell that no light came from any of the buildings on the property. He frowned at what that meant. After he'd left the compound, did the CIA immediately pack up and leave or did they wait until word of Marsh's death to flee the scene? Under either scenario, he knew that his chances of finding out any information decreased dramatically. 

Now feeling defeated, he walked listlessly around the property. He wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for or where he was going, but now without proof of what actually went on, his other thoughts came flooding back…..the thoughts that he'd been able to keep at bay during his recent journey……the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm and drown him. 

Rounding one corner, he stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at the barracks where they had kept him. Should he investigate what might still be inside? With the growing darkness, he knew that he would be able to see little if anything of the building's interior, so he decided to wait until the morning to do any sort of search. So he turned away and returned to the Jeep. Once there, he made himself as comfortable as possible, but deep down inside knowing that he would be lucky if he got any sleep at all this night. Not because of the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, but because his mind wouldn't give him rest. It kept going back to thoughts and memories that he just as soon forget. And so his restless night began.

At nearly 6 the next morning, a sound roused Frank from his fitful sleep. Groggily he looked around and sought the source. It wasn't until a run-down truck came into view, did Frank realize what had been making the noise. Shaking off the last remnants of his nearly sleepless night, Frank climbed out of the Jeep and approached the truck as it slowed and then stopped some 10 feet away. 

Frank and the occupants of the truck eyed each other with some trepidation. Slowly, 3 men exited the truck and walked toward Frank. 

Frank could tell that they were more than likely Mexican immigrants, the type of individuals who were very often hired as migrant workers and caretakers in this area. 

"¿Hola... usted habla inglés?" Frank asked.

"Yes," one of the men answered. "I speak English."

Frank nodded. "Good. What are you doing here?" he asked them.

The three looked at each other nervously. "We take care of this place," the one explained quickly. 

"Have you worked here for long?" Frank continued.

"Sí, señor…..for a year or more."

Frank took a deep breath before continuing. If the three had indeed been employed for as long as they say they had, then perhaps they could tell him what he needed to know. "I'm looking for someone. Perhaps you'll know who they are."

"Who are you looking for?"

Again steeling his courage, Frank finally asked. "I'm looking for a young woman. She's maybe 20 years old. I believe she also worked here. Her name is Nina." 

At the mention of Nina's name, the three turned to each other and began to talk animatedly amongst themselves. As Frank looked on, the tension in his body began to increase dramatically. From where he stood, he couldn't hear what was being said. They obviously knew who the girl was, but what was the cause of their agitation? A deep seated fear began to surface when the one man finally turned back to face him.

"The girl you ask for….how do you know her?"

"I….I worked here for a short time," Frank answered. "I met her then."

The other man simply nodded. "I see. She is no longer here."

A small glimmer of hope began to flicker inside him. Perhaps his worst fears wouldn't be realized after all. "Can you tell me where she is? It's important that I speak to her."

The man hesitated awhile before responding. "I'm afraid that will be impossible."

"Why is that? Has she returned to Mexico?" 

"Yes, she is again in Mexico. She was buried there less than a week ago."

For the second time in less than 72 hours, Frank felt as if his heart had stopped. Everything else except the conversation at hand seemed to melt away. "Buried….?" he heard himself ask.

"Sí…….she was killed by one of the agents who worked here," the man informed Frank.

In that instant, Frank Donovan knew that he deserved no redemption, no absolution. His soul would be cast into hell, and at that moment, he knew that he deserved whatever punishment was due him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


	20. Rock bottom

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Twenty

__

"…she was killed by one of the agents who worked here…."

"…she was killed by one of the agents who worked here…."

The words kept repeating….over and over again, in Frank's mind. An icy numbness overcame him as his unfocused eyes stared listlessly at an empty space in the distance. He had killed before, certainly. As Marsh had so blatantly pointed out, the body count was numerous. But never….never in his career had he ever taken anyone out that didn't deserve it in some way, shape or form. Never had he ended the life of an innocent. At least not until now.

__

"…she was killed by one of the agents who worked here…."

The men who served as caretakers for the compound stared at each other as they eyed the curious American with some trepidation. He appeared to be within his own little world, totally oblivious to their presence or what was around him. The one who had spoken earlier moved as if to approach him, but halted when Frank wandered almost haphazardly to the vehicle that had brought him this far. The men watched as the Jeep was started and finally pulled away. A short discussion then ensued as to whether they should stop him, but given their illegal status in this country, they thought better of becoming involved with whatever had spooked the man.

Frank drove the vehicle by pure instinct. His mind was whirling within a sea of uncertainty and confusion, while his body continued to operate of its own accord.

__

"…she was killed by one of the agents who worked here…."

As soon as the Jeep reached the main road, Frank headed north although he did so without thought. He headed north, away from this latest revelation, away from the guilt that was very nearly drowning him.

It wasn't until a red light on the dash caught his attention that he realized in what direction he was headed and how many miles had passed since leaving the compound. The sun was now high overhead and the odometer registered nearly 250 more miles than it did since last he registered where he was or what he was doing. The insistent red light told him that the vehicle would soon run out of gas. Then, and only then, did he begin to look around for what he would need to continue his journey….a gas station.

Several miles later, he saw just such an establishment in the distance. Slightly run down but still functioning, the place served the residents in this off-the-beaten-path area of this part of Florida. As the vehicle was refueled, Frank's mind began to wander once again. 

Why had he headed north? What was his destination? Why had he subconsciously stayed away from the main highways and roads? Had he done all of this without any sort of thought at all, or was his subconscious ruling him? Did he even know where he was going?

As the pump clicked off, he was still lost in oblivion. It wasn't until the one lone attendant finally said something to him, did Frank finally snap out of his stupor. Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out a $50 bill and paid the man. Climbing back into the Jeep, he left without waiting for the change due to him. The attendant waved his arms in the air and shouted, trying to catch the driver's attention, but soon gave up when the Jeep sped out of sight. Shrugging his shoulders, the man returned to the small building, shaking his head. "Tourists," he mumbled under his breath, already forgetting the incident as he pocketed the change.

As the miles ticked by, Frank continued his journey as detached as he had when he left the compound earlier that morning. He'd allowed himself those few moments at the gas station in order to question his own behavior, but those moments were over. As he drove, a thousand images, thoughts, remembrances flitted through his mind. What he didn't know, what he couldn't discern for himself at the moment was what was real and what was part of a made up past. A past that he'd allowed himself to wallow in and come damn near close to drowning in. At first he tried to categorize the endless parade, but soon gave up and just allowed the waves to crash over him unheeded. To concentrate too hard on any one image was to possibly give in to madness, and he wouldn't allow that. Not until…..

__

Until what?

What was he heading toward? And more importantly, what subconscious motivation was controlling his actions? He knew that he could answer that question, but it involved allowing himself to dive into the maelstrom that was suffocating his mind. From the moment that he'd left the compound, he'd shut off everything and anything that would make him remember. Something he desperately didn't want to do. He was on auto-pilot now. A survival technique that had served him so well in the past. 

And so the journey continued. Minutes became hours. At some point, a restlessness overcame him and he gave in to the need to speed his flight. He had avoided the highways at first. Why? He had no idea. But as the sun began to dip in the sky and daylight began to fade, an overwhelming need to hasten the journey washed through him. So finally, he headed toward I-95. Within minutes, he was speeding along much faster than he had been able to all day. What he kept an eye on, however, was his speed, staying just at or slightly above the limit. Something inside of him told him that getting pulled over now wouldn't do at all. 

Only when the light had completely drained from the sky and his eyelids became heavy did he begrudgingly decide to stop for the night, although doing so made him anxious and uneasy. So off the highway he went, searching for a motel far off the beaten path. A place that asked few questions, and accepted cash without a blink of an eye. A half hour or so later, he found just such a place. It was slightly run down. The type of place that was barely hanging on now that the bigger, shinier, multi-story places were pushing it, and others like it, out of business. A place that had probably been in business for some 50 odd years, now hanging on by a thread, barely able to make enough to pay the taxes and occasionally slap a new coat of paint on a wall here and there.

Once settled in the sparse but clean room, Frank quickly flipped on the TV, trying to drone out the thoughts rushing through his mind. What was on didn't matter to him, as long as he had something else to concentrate on. When a program failed to catch his interest, he quickly flipped to something else. He continued this until he could barely keep his eyes open. Finally, at nearly 3:00 in the morning, he gave in to his exhaustion and climbed on top of the bed, not even bothering to pull back the covers or even to undress. Sleep quickly claimed him, and Frank began to dream, something he hadn't done in quite some time. At least not the type of dream he could remember come daylight. Tonight would be different.

__

She was there. He could feel her, although his eyes told him that she was not within sight. They had always had that eerie kind of connection, a fact that he had fought against for so very long. How many years had he existed on his own? No one to answer to. No one to turn to. She had changed all of that. Before he had noticed what was happening, she had situated herself within his psyche, and refused to let go. Of course…..he had never wanted her to.

Searching through the shadows, he sought her out. Knowing that she was there, just out of reach, troubled him. And as the hunt continued, a cold dread began to grip his soul. What if he was wrong? What if she really was gone, and his mind was merely playing tricks on him? The thought that she would leave him entirely made his blood freeze, his heart refuse to beat, and his will to continue evaporate. She was all of those things to him. She was his heart….she was the blood that ran through his veins….she was his reason to continue. Without her, he was nothing.

Frantically now, he turned left and right, desperate to see her again, desperate to hold her to him and feel the love that sustained him. He called her name, but in the inky blackness, the word froze and died as if an Arctic wind had scooped it up and carried it away. 

Then there was silence.

Not a sound issued forth from the abyss. Not even a breath could be heard. And in that instant, he knew that he was utterly and desperately alone.

She had left.

His world meant nothing without her, and with that realization every molecule, every fiber of his being ached from the loss. 

She was gone…….

"Laura……..?"

Consciousness slowly settled in. He had not startled awake. No, in the darkness of the hotel room, he slowly resurfaced from his dream world, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he stared at the plain white ceiling, now a dull gray in the muted light. He didn't move. He merely laid there, awash in the despondent loneliness that consumed him. In the short time that he had slept, his mind had offered up one clue. He knew where he was headed and why. 

He _needed_ to see her. He _needed_ to see his children. 

The urge was overwhelming. They were the only light in the darkness for him. A beacon. A hope for something more than the angry, acid guilt that was slowly destroying him. But then there was the dream….

Was she truly gone? Had he broken her heart so badly that she had taken their children and left for good? A groan escaped his lips as he considered the possibility. The all-too-real pain racked his body and burned like fire in his mind. Closing his eyes tightly, he brought his hands to his face and tried to will away the thought as he covered his eyes.

Sitting up suddenly, he knew that he had to leave….now. Perhaps she hadn't left yet. Maybe he could still reach her before she disappeared entirely. 

So with little more than an hour or so of rest, Frank left the motel and continued his trek. Stopping briefly at the office, he slipped the room key into the slot on the door before climbing back into the Jeep and heading back toward the highway.

As each mile clicked by on the odometer, the nausea, that he could barely keep at bay, threatened to overtake him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he hadn't eaten a thing in nearly two days, and had drunk only slightly more than that. That wasn't the reason for his sickness though. It was the panic. The anguish that was twisting his gut into knots. At times it was nearly crushing, threatening to overcome him entirely. But when those moments came, he forcefully pushed it aside and concentrated on the mechanics of what he was doing…..changing lanes….negotiating traffic.

Hours and hundreds of miles later, he began to see signs for Virginia. The panic now kicked into overdrive, nearly sending him into a adrenaline induced stroke. His blood pulsed through his veins like a freight train. His mind worked at some hyper speed. Would she still be there?

More time and more miles blurred by before reaching the outskirts of his final destination. It was now late in the morning, well after rush hour which eased his flight. As he pulled onto his street, an icy calmness washed over him as something else kicked in within him. Self-preservation. The instinct that had saved him time and time again, came to the forefront and took control. Whatever waited within the house before him, would be met with caution and a modicum of self-control.

Steeling himself, he finally exited the vehicle and cautiously approached the house.

His home. 

As he stared at its structure, he felt like it had been years since he had seen it last. There was a familiarity, but also an alien quality about it that unnerved him. Pausing but a millisecond, he continued. 

Without a key, he had two options. Ring the doorbell and hope that she was home, or break in. Standing at the door wondering if she would answer was almost too painful, so he opted for the second course of action. If she was still there, he knew that he would startle her by the sudden intrusion, but agonizing over whether she would let him back into his own house was even worse.

So he made his way around to the back, away form the watchful eyes of neighbors who may see what he was doing and wonder why. Finding a small window off of the living room, he covered the pane as best as he could with his shirt tail before smashing it with his fist. Within seconds, he was inside after unlatching the window and sliding it up and out of the way. When no sounds met his ears save his own labored breathing, his heart began to sink. 

As he slowly made his way through the house, the sound of a ringing phone made him jump uncharacteristically. Staring at the object, he debated with himself about whether to answer it or not, but then something occurred to him.

The alarm system.

Lunging for the receiver, he answered as calmly as he could. Thankfully he did answer, as the alarm company rep was just about to hang up and call the police. After a few brief moments, Frank reassured the man on the line that the window break had been an accident and nothing more. After giving the password, which Frank had to scramble to remember, the conversation was ended.

As he hung up the phone, one thing became painfully obvious to him. Laura and the children were indeed not there. The only question that remained was whether the situation was permanent. Would they be returning sometime soon, or would his worst fears be realized?

Calming himself as best as he could, he began his search in earnest, looking for the clues that would tell him whether his life was over.

Entering his bedroom, he tried to sort through the details that assailed him. Trying to remember what should have been there as opposed to what was actually present was nerve-wracking. Sifting through certain thoughts while ignoring others was becoming increasingly difficult. As some came to the forefront, others clamored for attention. Willing away the unwanted thoughts, Frank continued.

Turning this way and that, at first, Frank believed that nothing at all was wrong. But then….

The picture. The one she kept by her side of the bed. Their wedding photo. 

It was gone.

He stared at the place where it should have been. Was he correct about the photo or was his mind playing tricks on him again? He closed his eyes tightly trying to will the image of the place but mere weeks ago to show itself to him now.

Slowly he opened his eyes. He had been correct. The framed picture was gone. Its absence sent a cold chill up his spine. 

Turning then, his eyes scoured the rest of the room. What else was missing? Slowly, all of the rest of the pieces fell into place. Although their bedroom had not been decorated heavily with mementos, there had been a smattering of personal touches here and there. Their wedding photo had been one such item. Looking to the dresser, Frank noticed that yet another photo was missing. The one of the 5 of them, the last one taken of them together before Michael died. 

A sudden panic grabbed hold of him and refused to let go. Why would she remove just those items? 

Something else took over just then, a part of him that was hurt and wounded, a part that needed answers….now.

He immediately began to open dresser drawers, tearing through each one as a man possessed. After opening but two such drawers, one thing became very apparent. A good portion of her clothes were gone. Backing away from the dresser, his eyes now turned toward the closet. With the same fierce determination, he renewed his search. But once the door was open, he froze. No further investigation was needed. She'd taken her suitcases.

She'd left him.

An eerie calmness washed over him as he slowly backed away from the open closet door and sat on the end of their bed. His eyes now took on the same look that they'd had when he had been told just yesterday morning that he had indeed killed Nina. Empty…..despondent…..lifeless. 

She'd left him.

The one hope that he'd had left was slowly slipping away from him. The light was dimming, taking what was left of his soul with it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that she was his only shot at any sort of redemption. He needed her in order to heal, and without her there beside him, he knew the situation was hopeless.

He wasn't sure how long he had sat there. Minutes…..hours……it could have been even days as far as he knew. As part of his mind resurfaced, he looked up then and caught a reflection of himself in the dresser mirror.

At first, his image was almost foreign to him. His eyebrows drew together as if he were trying to figure out some difficult puzzle. Something happened then. Something inside Frank Donovan…..snapped. 

Disjointed thoughts flooded his mind and nearly blinded him. The _other_ part of him now demanded attention, the part that he had somehow quieted for the past 48 hours or so. 

He watched the confused look in his eyes turn to blinding, unadulterated hatred. What was inside of him had caused all of this, had driven his wife and children from his life. _It_ had been the thing that made him pull that trigger and take an innocent woman's life. _It_ had been the thing that wanted him to touch the women, to revel in the lustful thoughts that had been at the heart of his betrayal.

Standing suddenly, the uncontrollable rage causing him to visibly shake, Frank paced to the mirror, intent on staring down the thing that lived within him. Gripping the side of the furniture, he steadied himself. Eyes blazing, he was bound and determined to rid himself of what needed to be destroyed.

Destroyed……

He needed to eliminate it, to end its existence. That's when a crystal clear thought entered his head.

The gun.

He had the means of stopping it. All it would take was one final shot. He had killed an innocent. Surely doing this would be a much easier task, a just reward for a life filled with sins and transgressions. 

His hand slowly reached behind his back and withdrew the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. His eyes momentarily dropped to the object that he now held. He needed to do this. This was his only shot at redemption.

And with a chilling calmness, Frank raised his head once more, and looked at his own reflection.

"Time to die," he told the man on the other side of the mirror as he chambered the first round.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

__


	21. Doubts

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Twenty One

Laura reread the same paragraph for close to the tenth time. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't concentrate on anything this morning. Finally giving up, she folded the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table. Her mind began to wander once more as she stared out the window of the 3rd floor apartment. 

Alex had been kind enough to put them up for the time that they would be in Chicago. Laura had argued, albeit unsuccessfully, that she and the children were intruding too much. Alex would have none of it. They were to stay as long as they cared to, and that was that. End of discussion.

Laura appreciated everyone's helpful attitude and truth be told she was more than thankful that other people would be around to help out with the children. More than once, either, or both, of the children had cornered her with questions about their father, and honestly, she was running out of answers. Answers and energy, it would seem. Glancing at the clock, she noted that it was barely 10:00 AM and she already felt worn out and listless. She knew the reason, of course. In the past 2 days alone, she'd barely been able to sleep more than a couple of hours either night. Sighing heavily, she ran her hands over her tired face and wondered when it would ever end. _It_, of course, being the unbearable silence. Jake, Cody and the rest of Frank's old team had been doing their darnedest to collect any information about Frank or his mission, but so far they had come up with nothing……absolutely nothing. It appeared that Raymond Marsh had been the only one privy to whatever this mission entailed, and, obviously, he had taken what he knew to the grave. For one brief, fog-filled moment of lightheadedness, she'd even entertained the idea of a séance. A dry, humorless chuckle erupted from her lips as she pictured the group of them huddled around a wrinkled old woman with a crystal ball. 

"What's so funny?" Alex asked as she entered the living room, eyeing Laura cautiously.

Shaking her head, Laura replied cryptically, "A séance."

Alex frowned. "What the hell?" she asked, her eyebrows knit in confusion and concern. For the past couple of days, she'd witnessed her old friend walking around the apartment, refusing to go out, preferring instead to spend her time staring out the nearest window or pretending to read a novel while never turning a single page. In her opinion, Laura had become a ghost of her former self. _Maybe a séance would be in order._

"Sorry," Laura mumbled, slightly embarrassed about having actually vocalized what she'd really been thinking about. "I was just wondering if attempting a séance would help get us some answers. I mean, it would seem that Marsh was the only one with the answers that we need." Glancing up, she noted the worried frown on her friend's face. "I'm kidding," she added, halfheartedly. 

Alex stared at her a heartbeat or two longer before deciding to change the subject. "So….what do you want to do today?" But before Laura had a chance to respond, Alex held up her hands in a 'don't even say it' type of gesture. "And no, I'm not going to let you hang around here all day, so pick something……anything." She watched as Laura barely contained the look of annoyance that threatened to cross her face. Alex continued on, "I mean it. All you've been doing since you arrived is sit in that chair and stare out the window. That's it. We're going out, and yes, that means all of us," she added before Laura could interrupt. "We can go to the pool…..the park…..the shopping mall. Just pick something!" For more than a few seconds, she saw an angry spark flash in Laura's eyes. There was a set to her jaw that told Alex she was preparing to tell her where to get off, but the look was there and gone before it could barely even register. And in it's place, an unbelievable look of anguish and exhaustion took it's place. Alex watched as Laura turned her head toward the window once more, her shoulders slumped, the fire in her doused before it could even be kindled.

Still gazing out the window, Laura answered in a quiet voice, "I know that you're just trying to help out, Alex, but honestly…..I don't even think I have the energy to get out of this chair." Turning then, she looked toward Alex as she sat perched on the end of the couch. "I appreciate your efforts. I really do. But….." Her voice trailed off as if she didn't even have the strength to finish the sentence.

"But you're worried too much," Alex answered for her.

Laura could only nod, as the tears that she refused to let fall, threatened once more. "I can't explain it, and God knows that I don't expect anyone else to understand. There's something wrong, Alex. I don't know how I know…..I just do. He's been in hundreds of dangerous situations since we've been together, and yes, I worried every single blessed time, but this time……_this_ is different." Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and felt 50 years older than she really was. Had she ever been this tired? For the life of her, she couldn't remember a time when she'd felt so helpless…..so out of sorts. The logical side of her brain knew that what she needed was sleep……18 to 24 hours of nothing but sleep. From the time that Frank left until this very moment, she'd barely been able to close her eyes without images of what _could be _happening engulfing her mind. Images that wouldn't let her rest, some too horrible to even think about except in the bright light of day. Sleep……that was what she needed. Sleep…..and her husband back by her side. 

"Laura?" Alex asked softly.

Laura's eyes flew open, and her breathing sped up for a moment or two. Had she just nodded off? Glancing at Alex's concerned face, she knew that she must have. "I'm sorry. I'm just…..tired," she finished, wanting to say so much more.

"I know. I have an idea. How about if I take the kids to the pool today? We'll swing by and pick up the others and we'll make a day of it. How's that sound?" 

"They'd like that. I swear the two of them would stay in the water from morning 'til night if we let them," Laura added, a slight smile gracing her drawn face.

Alex smiled back. "There's one condition though."

"What's that?" Laura asked hesitantly.

"You have to promise me to try to get some sleep while we're gone." Before Laura could object, she rushed on. "I mean it. Sleep. Not sitting in this chair all day. You go back to bed…you lie down….you close your eyes and you sleep."

A look of disbelief crossed Laura's face. "Don't you think I _want_ to sleep?? I'm a doctor, Alex. I know what sleep deprivation does to people. Paranoia…..irritability… confusion…."

"I know….I know," Alex stated, interrupting her. "I've heard you…..pacing back and forth out here after the rest of us have gone to bed."

Laura looked at her friend sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that anyone else could hear me. You should have said something."

"Laura…..that's not what kept me awake. It was knowing that you're so worried and that I couldn't do a damned thing to help you."

Laura managed another slight smile. "Thank you for that……for everything."

Alex nodded in acknowledgement. "I have another idea," she explained as she went into the bathroom and came back a moment later carrying a pill bottle. Laura eyed her quizzically when she saw what Alex had retrieved. 

Holding the bottle in front of her, Alex explained. "Do you remember when I hurt my back last year?" 

"Falling onto that balcony from the roof, right?"

"Right. I was lucky I didn't break anything, but I hit hard enough to shove a few discs in my back out of alignment." Pointing to the bottle, she added, "These are some major painkillers. I guarantee you at least 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. I kid you not. These bad boys will knock you on your ass."

Laura glanced at the bottle and then back to her friend's face. She'd never been a major proponent of pill popping. If something hurt, it was for a reason. Finding the cause and correcting the situation was the only thing that would make the pain go away permanently. But Alex was right, something needed to be done or one of these days she would keel over from exhaustion. A drug induced sleep was better than no sleep at all.

Alex watched the wariness in Laura's eyes and began to prepare any number of arguments to plead her case, but then Laura did the unexpected.

"Alright. I'll take them."

Alex's eyes opened a little wider before responding. Her acquiescence was just one more indication that Laura was not herself. "Great. As soon as Jake gets back with the kids, we'll get out of your hair and you and Mr. OxyContin here can take a nice long nap." Before Laura could change her mind, Alex headed to the phone and called Jake's cell, letting him know about the plans that they had made.

"He'll be here in about 10 minutes," Alex informed her after hanging up.

"I'll get their swimsuits for you," Laura announced as she unfolded herself out of the living room chair. As she passed Alex, she placed her hand on the woman's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Placing her own hand on top of Laura's, Alex responded, "You're more than welcome." The two women read so much more from each other's eyes. Laura was more than just grateful and Alex was trying to make up for what she considered to be fault on the group's part. Laura needed help and had turned to them for the support that she so desperately needed, and so far all that they'd been able to do is to entertain the children and her for a few hours at a time instead of coming up with the answers she searched for in vain. A small smile of understanding passed between the two, and then Laura went to retrieve what the kids would need for the day.

Several minutes later, the two women headed down to the parking garage, waiting for Jake to pull up. After only a minute or two of waiting, he did just that. Laura leaned into Jake's SUV and told the children to mind the adults and to behave themselves. Both agreed that they would. After Christopher asked why she wasn't coming along, she glanced briefly at Alex before answering that she wasn't feeling well today, but that they should enjoy the day without her. 

Jake exited the vehicle for a moment, and approached Laura who now stood near the elevator. "You OK?" he asked with more than a hint of concern in his voice.

Laura managed a weak smile and nodded her head. "I'm fine Jake. I just……I just need to get some rest. That's all, and thanks for taking care of the kids for the afternoon."

"Hey…..it's nothing. I'm more worried about you," he told her as he rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Anything you need…….you know you just need to ask, right?"

Laura was once again fighting the tears that she had been so desperately trying to stave off. It still amazed her how quickly the group of them had become fast friends after "the accident". In so many ways, these 4 individuals had become closer to her than she could have ever imagined. As a doctor, she knew the phenomenon wasn't uncommon amongst people who had shared something life-threatening. To be a part of such occurrence still awed her. Alex and Jake especially had become the brother and sister that she'd never had.

Jake saw the jumble of emotions in Laura's eyes and it sent a shooting pain to his heart. He felt utterly at a loss as to what to do to help her. He'd tried almost every single contact he could think of in order to help get a track on Frank's whereabouts. He had a couple of more leads, and would tend to them in the morning. In the meantime, he vowed to offer whatever help and comfort he could in order to get Laura and the children through this. And to that end, he approached Laura and wrapped her tightly in his embrace. He wasn't sure who needed the hug more, him or her. 

The move stunned Laura at first, but she quickly responded, burying her head against his shoulder as she finally gave in to the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Although the tears flowed freely now, she still strained to suppress the wracking sobs that fought to overtake her. It wouldn't do at all for the children to see her break down entirely. As it was, she had showed more emotion in front of them than she would have liked. She needed to remain strong for them. If she broke entirely, she knew that they would worry more than she was sure they already did. Children were very intuitive, even at a young age. They may not understand the why's and the what for's, but they certainly understood, and fed off of, the emotions that flowed around them. For the children's sake, she needed to find a way to keep it together.

After a few seconds, Laura forced herself to pull away. Taking a deep breath, and sniffling heavily, she looked up at Jake. She saw some of her own emotions reflected back in his eyes. She wasn't the only one effected by the bizarre recent events. This she knew all too well. 

Jake reached up and held her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. "We'll find a way to get him back, Laura. I swear it," he declared to her, meaning every single word.

She smiled as brightly as she could in return, her heart feeling just a fraction lighter than it had just mere seconds before. "I know, Jake……I know."

The two stood there for a moment more before Laura shooed him away, telling him that the kids were getting antsy and that the best way to avoid all out chaos was for them to get going. With more than some hesitance, Jake finally walked back to the vehicle. After making sure that everyone was safely buckled in, they finally pulled away, leaving Laura feeling alone and lonely. A shuddering sigh escaped her lips before she turned to push the elevator button. As she entered the lift a few seconds later, she failed to sense something that she would have picked up on at any other time…..she had not been alone in the parking garage.

The doors closed and the elevator began its ascent. Curiously, it stopped once at the second floor, although no one was there waiting. Shrugging off the delay, she pushed the 'Close Doors' button and the elevator continued. Slowly she exited the car and turned toward Alex's apartment at the far end of the hallway. Moments later, she was inside, the door firmly locked behind her.

She glanced here and there, making a mental note that she and the children needed to clean up their mess when they returned later. In the course a couple of days, they'd somehow managed to take over Alex's normally neat and tidy place. After surveying the damage, she shuffled toward the kitchen, intent on getting a glass of water so that she could take one of the pills that Alex had left for her. _A full glass of water_, she told herself, _and be sure the pill doesn't break open before it's swallowed. _She'd read research about OxyContin. It was a strong painkiller, not to be trifled with. Chewing or otherwise opening the medicine while it was being ingested could lead to overdose. Even with one pill. _Always the doctor, huh?_

After filling the glass she went back to the living room, looking for the bottle that she was sure Alex had left there. Her eyebrows narrowed when she failed to find it immediately. _I could have sworn she left it on the table_. Shaking her head at her own confusion, she set the glass down on one of the end tables and returned to the kitchen, making that her next logical choice for the search for the pill bottle's whereabouts. 

Rounding the corner, Laura was barely able to stifle a scream when she saw what awaited her. Heart racing wildly, she could hardly believe it. There…..standing in the middle of Alex's kitchen, was the one person she wanted to see more than anything else in the world.

"Frank," she was barely able to whisper, her voice trembling as much as her hands that now clutched the counter behind her for support. Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him. His clothes were wrinkled, his face paler and more drawn than she had ever remembered seeing, his beard now more than 4 or 5 days old, but it was his eyes….his eyes that caught her attention more than anything else. They looked……cold……almost lifeless.

Somehow, she managed to maneuver herself toward him, although her legs felt like they would give out at any moment. The closer she got, the more confused she became. He still eyed her with the same trepidation and…..mistrust(?) that she'd noticed from the very start of this weird encounter. For more than a heartbeat or two, she began to wonder if this was all some sort of hallucination. Had she been so sleep-deprived that her mind would invent the very subject of her dreams, bringing him to her when nothing else could? As the seconds ticked by, she made herself believe that he was indeed real. Even in her wildest dreams…..never had he looked at her in the way he was now.

"Frank?" she repeated when he still failed to respond to her. If not for the eyes that followed her slowly as she crossed the floor toward him, she would have sworn that her presence didn't register at all. 

When she stood less than 2 feet away from him, she tentatively reached out her hand, intent on at least making sure that he wasn't just some phantom presence come to torment her soul. As she slowly reached toward his chest, his hand swiftly grabbed her tightly around the wrist and pushed her away from him, nearly sending her to the floor if not for the table had been close enough to grab on to.

A single ominous word finally issued from him. "Don't."

Stunned, she looked at him not knowing quite what to do. In all of the scenarios that had played through her mind….never…..never would she have imagined the hateful way that he greeted her now. 

"Frank…..please……"

"Please what, my darling, faithful wife?" he answered back, every word….every syllable dripping with sarcasm and something deeply malevolent. 

Her eyes widened. _Faithful? What had he meant by that? _What was going through his obviously troubled mind, she could only guess. 

She attempted to remain as calm as she could, willing her heartbeat to lessen from its now frantic rhythm. "Frank…..I've missed you so much," she told him truthfully, putting every ounce of emotion and love that she could muster into the declaration.

"You missed me?" he asked her, his face contorting with disbelief and disgust. "And exactly how have you missed me….my love?" he asked, the last two words added almost a jest. "Tell me," he ordered, his eyes now darkening as mysteriously as if the sun had suddenly disappeared from a cloudless sky.

Her moment of composure was gone. She knew….at that very moment she knew…..she was no longer talking to the man that she loved more than life itself…..the man who had risked everything to save her from the cave in that nearly took her life…..the man that she had shared her life with for the past 12 years. This…..this was someone else entirely. Someone she hoped she would never see again.

"Luis?" she asked tentatively, holding her breath as she did so.

An amused expression now slowly crossed his features, a twisted, cold smile now graced his lips. "My dear doctor……you do remember me," he told her with some delight.

"Dear sweet God," she muttered under her breath, as she now slowly backed away from him.

"Not quite," he answered her. "I'm afraid it's only me. God deserted us some time ago."

"What do you want?" she asked, boldly trying to discern why _he_ was here. 

An ominous, almost lecherous smile spread across his face. Laughing softly to himself, he finally answered. "I came here to prove a point."

"To prove a point? I…..I don't understand," she told him truthfully, her eyebrows now knit in confusion and near panic.

"Oh, but I think you do. I had to prove to him…..prove to him that you couldn't be trusted."

A sickening feeling gripped her insides. Even during all of the time that Frank had been her patient, never once had he spoken as if Luis was another person. Even in his confusion, he had been very clear that Luis and he had been halves of the same whole……just another aspect of his own personality. This…..this behavior spoke of something entirely different. She knew who he spoke of when he said '_him_'. 

Frank's mind had split into two totally different entities. _Luis_ had come to prove something to _Frank_, and Laura felt the world spinning out from under her feet. 

Laura shut her eyes tightly and took a deep calming breath. If she wanted to get out of this situation safely, she needed to keep her wits about her. If she wanted to help him, she needed to think as a doctor, not as his wife.

"What's wrong, doctor? Have you decided that you didn't miss me as much as you thought?" he asked with a coarse laugh. 

"I…..I…..just wasn't expecting….you," she answered, hoping that her fear didn't show in her voice. 

"Ahhhh…..I see," he answered as he slowly moved toward her, now looking like an animal stalking its prey. "You weren't expecting me? Or…..you weren't expecting me…..just now?"

Before she had a chance to answer, he came even closer. "Tell me, Laura……what have you been doing while I was away?" Stopping but mere inches away, he slowly raised his right hand and began to slowly run his finger down her bare arm. 

A cold chill raced through her body. Part of her wanted to run. Part of her wanted to smack his hand away, but she knew that either action would be an irreconcilable mistake. From somewhere deep down within herself, she sought the strength that she needed to respond to him. She told herself that this _was_ the man that she loved and at this very moment, _he_ needed her like no other time in their lives together. 

"I've been doing everything that I can to find out what's been happening to you," she told him as calmly and as truthfully as she could.

Looking down at her, one hand now resting against the counter top next to her, he responded. "And who did you go to for this information, hmmmm?"

"Jake….." He interrupted before she could finish.

"Jake?" he asked, an iciness now to his voice that she didn't like. His eyes slowly met hers. "Tell me, Laura……how long did you wait at our house after I left? One day? Two? Or did you wait at least a week or two before you came running to your lover?"

A nearly violent shiver coursed through Laura's body_. That's why he called me his faithful wife! _She could see the violent storm in his eyes, now barely contained beneath the surface. Should she deny the accusation? Should she get mad? Should she plead for his forgiveness for a transgression that she never committed? What was her best course of action now? 

Taking into account what she knew about Luis' background, she opted for choice number 2. "How dare you!?" she nearly yelled as she planted her hands squarely in his chest as she pushed him away from her. "Don't you dare touch me!"

For a second or two, he looked shocked by her reaction, almost as if he had already worked out in his mind how she would react, and now found himself completely wrong. But after that second or two of hesitation, the fire returned to his eyes. Quicker than she could ever remember seeing anyone move, he grabbed hold of both of her arms and spun her around so that her back was up against his chest and both of his arms were locked squarely around her.

As she squirmed in his embrace, desperately trying to free herself without causing him any harm, she heard him rasp in her ear, "You like it rough, huh? Is that how he takes you, mi esposa traviesa?" As he spoke, his breath fanned her ear as his head dipped and roughly took an earlobe between his teeth.

Her own breath caught in her throat. The world seemed to be spinning off its axis. Could she allow him to touch her like this? Deep down, she knew that this was still her husband, but his touch…..his manner…..everything told her that this was someone different……a stranger.

He mistook her labored breathing as arousal and as his incentive to continue. "I saw you…..the two of you….together. His touch…..does it excite you?" he asked, a dangerous timber to his voice.

Closing her eyes, Laura willed herself to respond, to give him the answer that she thought he sought. "No…..only you. Only you excite me," she whispered to him.

His hands paused their perusal of her body, and the strength of his embrace lessened somewhat. He hadn't expected her to answer in that way. He'd expected a fight, a struggle. Not this….

Laura sensed a change in him. Because of the way that he held her, she couldn't turn her head in order to look in his eyes. If she could only see him, she would be able to read whether she was getting through to him. As his hold on her loosened, she gathered courage enough to turn toward him. She had to see. She had…..

As she completed her turn, she knew that she had made a grievous error. Instead of seeing a softness in his eyes, she saw only blackness. A seething darkness. The storm about to be unleashed. Too late, she began to pull away from him. 

"¡Puta!" he yelled as he backhanded her, sending her flying across the kitchen and into the table and chairs, toppling anything and everything in her path.

Stunned, she sat on the floor, her hand pressed to her face where she could already feel the tissue swelling. She couldn't cry. She felt like she couldn't even breath. She half expected him to come after her, to finish whatever he had started. But after several minutes lapsed and still nothing happened, she slowly looked up at him. His jaw was squarely shut, his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. But most disturbing of all was the pure, unadulterated hatred that she saw in his eyes. Something she never thought she would see, not in a thousand lifetimes. Not from the man that had loved her gently….tenderly. Not even during their most heated argument had she ever seen this side of him. A side she never could imagine would exist. 

At that moment, all hope was lost to her. Nothing else existed. Nothing. An overwhelming sense of loss swept over her. She'd prayed for the day that he would come walking back into her life. Never could she have imagined this. A strangled cry escaped her lips as she finally gave into the pain and grief that had threatened to consume her since the day that he'd left. Pulling her legs up in front of her, she wrapped her arms around them and bawled like a baby. She'd lost him. The man now standing some five feet away was a stranger, someone she never knew.

Her crying became almost frantic as she called out his name time and time again, oblivious to the fact that he still stood within the same room as her. Her sobs wracked her body, almost to the point where she made herself sick. A choking cough, the only thing that interrupted her tears interminable flow. 

How long she cried, she had no idea. All sense of time and place were lost to her. Slowly…ever so slowly……she regained her senses. Every part of her body felt as if it were weighted, and everything ached. Her back from sitting in this position for so long…..her head from the intensity of her crying……and mostly her face where she was sure there were now purple and blue marks. As she slowly resurfaced and calmed herself, she felt something else too. A hand….slowly, gently rubbing her back. 

Slowly she raised her head, almost afraid to see who now sat beside her. How long had she been crying? A terrifying thought occurred to her. What if Alex and the children had come home and seen her like this? A gasping breath hitched in her throat, as she slowly swiveled her head to look.

Frank.

He was still there. Leaning up against the fallen table, his eyes firmly shut. His own tears traced rivulets down his face. A face that wore a pained expression.

She sat there for a moment or two wondering how the events of the last hour or so had brought them to this point. When had he come to her? What had brought him to her? She couldn't even venture a guess for fear that things would turn horribly wrong once again if she thought about it too much. 

"Frank?" she whispered, her voice still thick with the tears that continued to escape from her eyes.

He winced when he heard her voice, but still he kept his eyes closed, afraid to see what he knew would be there. Only when he felt her hand on his leg did he finally open his eyes. The look in her now brilliant green eyes would forever tear at his soul, but even worse, he could see what he'd done to her face, her right cheek now bruised and swollen. Clenching his jaw tightly, he swiftly closed his eyes once more and turned his head away. The night before he'd left, he'd hurt her. Although he'd been in the throes of a nightmare, he knew that he would never forgive himself for what he'd done, and now this…..

"Frank…..please look at me," she pleaded softly. She didn't know how. She didn't know why. All she did know was that the man beside her now was her husband. Something had happened. Something had returned him to her, and some miracles shouldn't be questioned. "Frank…please."

She turned so that she could more fully face him. Raising her hand, she gently touched his face, and in response, he pulled almost violently away from her. His eyes now open, he stared back at her, unable to believe that she wasn't running away from him as he knew she should. 

"Why are you still here?" she asked quietly, her voice still raspy.

The question froze in the air between them. He looked into her eyes trying to interpret the question. Confusion and guilt clouded everything that he saw, including what he thought he saw in her eyes. He thought she was accusing him…..telling him that he should leave. And although he knew she was right for doing so, a very small part of him that still believed in forgiveness, died quietly. Closing his eyes once again, he shut away the image of what he'd done. Slowly, he rose to his feet.

She saw the struggle going on in his eyes, and knew that he had misunderstood her question. Rising to block his way, she added, "I didn't expect you to be here….with me. I thought……" She couldn't finish when she saw the anguish in his eyes. Once again, he misunderstood.

How could she get through to him? What could she say? What could she do to convince him?

"I love you, Frank."

As he brushed past her, intent on leaving as quickly as possible, he froze dead in his tracks. He knew that he couldn't have heard her correctly. How could she possibly love him? The thought was both foreign and comforting at the same time. While part of him believed that there was nothing remotely loveable about him, the other part desperately craved to hear her say the words once more. Turning toward her, he looked deeply into her eyes, silently praying that she was speaking what was truly in her heart. What he saw made his heart stop briefly and then beat wildly in his chest.

Crossing in front of him, she placed both of her hands gently on his face, and repeated what she'd already told him, "I missed you so much," her voice breaking as she uttered the last word. 

The world dissolved around the two as they gazed into each other's eyes. Civilization stood still. There was nothing else but them. Slowly, ever so slowly, Frank drew Laura into his embrace and the two melted one into the other. Two contented sighs escaped their lips and mingled. 

Laura held on to Frank as if he would disappear at any second if she let go. All of the worry, the lonely nights, even the events of the last two hours vanished, leaving only the warm, secure knowledge that her husband was back where he needed to be, where he was meant to be.

As Frank clutched his wife to him, a small voice in the back of his mind clamored for attention. A voice that told him to enjoy the moment, because it was never meant to last. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he relegated the voice to the dark recesses of his mind, intent instead on reveling in this moment. A moment that he had prayed for……fought for.

Somehow, the voice made itself known once more before being hurtled back into the void.

__

Do you really think she'll still love you when she finds out what you've done?

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	22. Irrevocable?

Broken Promises

Chapter Twenty Two

Frank stared up at the ceiling fan as it lazily stirred the air. As he watched its seemingly unending rotations, his mind began to wander as it had for the past couple of hours. 

For a very short, blessed amount of time, he'd actually felt at peace. After what had happened in the kitchen, he and Laura had retired to the bedroom that she had been using during her stay. The two had clung to each other in desperation, needing to feel the warmth of each other's bodies as if in doing so, they could finally recharge their souls. No words were spoken. No apologies or explanations were offered. Not now. Now was a time of bonding, a rebirth. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Frank pulled back and looked at his wife's tear streaked face. Framing her face with his hands, he finally forced himself to look at the damage that he had done. Not just at her swollen cheek, but at the pain he saw in her eyes, the pain that he knew he could never fully erase. He knew that there were no words he could say to her that would make it go away, nothing that would make the events of the last weeks fade into oblivion, something he wanted frantically to make happen. 

But pain and anguish weren't the only things that he saw. Wiping away her tears, he saw the dark circles under her eyes. How many sleepless nights had he caused? How many times had she cried herself to sleep, alone in the bed that they'd shared for so many years? How many hours had she spent offering consolation and assurances to their children that he would soon return to them? Dozens of other questions tore at his gut and caused his heart to ache. What could he do for her….. now…..at this moment? Before anything else, he instinctively knew that she needed to rest. The explanations, the apologies, and, most importantly, the accusations and guilt could come later. 

Guiding her to the bed, he saw the questioning look in her eyes. He also saw the wariness….the mistrust. For well over a decade, the two had shared the same bed, and yet now, he saw that she feared what would happen if she laid beside him once more. 

"You need to rest," he barely whispered to her. 

She stared at him, unblinking for a second or two as she realized that she'd misunderstood his intent. "But we……"

Before she could finish the sentence, he interrupted her. "I know….I know, and we will. But right now, we're both drained, physically and emotionally. If we start this now……"

It was Laura's turn to stop him. Reaching up, she gently pressed her fingertips to his lips. "I understand." Still sniffling back the tears that continued to flow, she managed to give him a weak smile. "We have so much to talk about."

Capturing her hand, he knelt down beside her as she sat on the edge of the bed. Tentatively, he skimmed his fingertips across her now swollen and slightly bruised cheek. Closing his eyes, his hand dropped once more to his side. How could he possibly ask for her forgiveness? What possible penance could he pay to redeem himself?

Laura saw the battle being waged behind her husband's eyes before they were closed off from her. Part of him desperately wanted forgiveness, the other knew that he would never deserve it. "We'll work through this," she said almost silently, her breath still hitching from her most recent crying jag. She closed her own eyes and rested her forehead against his. In a way, she knew that he was right. As much as she wanted to talk about what happened, as much as she had a thousand questions that she needed answers to, the two of them were too exhausted now to begin.

Leaning her back once more, he took her shoulders in his hands and eased her back toward the mattress. Swinging her legs up, she stared up at him, so many questions unasked. Once she was situated comfortably, he began to pull away. Immediately her hand shot out and captured his, causing him to turn to her once more. "Please…..stay with me?" she asked hesitantly.

Frank stared at her for a moment or two, one more conflict ensued within him. 

Laura's eyes pleaded with him. She needed him there….beside her. Partly because she just needed to see him, to touch him, and partly because she was afraid that he would disappear once more. 

After a moment or two more, a decision was reached and he moved around to the other side of the bed and settled down next to her. Without hesitation, she wrapped herself around him, her head pillowed against his chest. Only when she felt his arms enfold her, did she truly relax and allow herself to succumb to her exhaustion.

Within what seemed to be mere minutes, Frank heard her breathing even out and knew that she had finally fallen asleep. He closed his eyes and tried desperately to will himself to join her, but his still troubled mind had other plans. Despite the exhaustion, his thoughts raced wildly. Laura wasn't the only one with questions. The events of the last few days were hazy at best. What was real and what was part of his ongoing nightmare? What had he imagined and what had really happened? As much as he wanted to know, he was also afraid to delve into those particular waters right now. Could he explore what had happened without being dragged under once more? Could he recall the events of the last couple of days without the threat of succumbing to the part of him that he abhorred? Sighing raggedly, he knew that he didn't dare. Not now. Too much damage had already been done. 

Shifting his head slightly, he looked down at the woman laying in his arms. She was his world….his reason for living. She and the children had brought more happiness and love to his life than he had ever thought humanly possible. He couldn't risk doing any further harm. What had already transpired was already more than his tortured soul could bear. 

Staring at the ceiling fan once more, he contemplated how he could possibly make things right again. At this particular point in time, what possible assurances could he give that the events of the past few weeks wouldn't be repeated or made even worse? Once again he sighed. There were none…..no promises that he could make that he wouldn't fear might break yet again. 

Shifting slightly on the bed, Frank felt Laura's grip tighten around him. Even in sleep, she subconsciously was clinging to him, afraid to let him go. Glancing down, he saw that she had grasped part of his shirt in her hand, appearing as if she were clutching it for dear life. The sight gripped his heart and squeezed painfully. How much damage had he caused, and more importantly, was it irreversible? Tears stung the backs of his eyes as he pondered the destruction that his behavior had wrought. 

Closing his eyes from the sight, he slowly and gently combed his fingers through her hair. A tired, weak smile graced his lips as he wallowed in the comforting sensation that such a simple gesture brought to him. He'd always loved her hair, the silkiness, the way it shone like coppery gold in the sunlight, the scent of honeysuckle that he always associated with her, and the softness of it against his cheek when he nuzzled her neck as they made love. The gesture also seemed to calm her during her sleep. A slight trembling sigh escaped her parted lips as she slowly relaxed the hand that anchored her to his shirt. It unclenched and relaxed as it slowly caressed and then came to rest as it sensed the beating of his heart. 

Frank sighed yet again as he finally contemplated what he would need to do to put his world to right once more. For a few more minutes he allowed himself to wallow in the simple pleasure that holding his wife had brought to him, but he knew that soon…..very soon, he would need to put certain plans in motion. Reluctantly, he turned his thoughts toward what had to be. The only question was whether what needed to be done would be the final blow that would finally end his marriage and cost him everything.

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Laura woke some time later. How long she slept, she had no idea. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours or even days. What she did know was that although she still felt slightly drained, she felt more rested than she had in weeks. Stretching slightly, she closed her eyes once more and breathed in deeply as she luxuriated in the sensation between dream and wakefulness. Slowly, the outside world began to filter in and she became aware of sounds. Nothing loud, just the soft scraping of feet outside of the bedroom as someone passed, or the hushed voices that she could just barely make out through the solid wood door. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that was until she remembered……

"Frank?" she whispered in the silence of the room as she suddenly sat up and glanced this way and that. Her heart began to beat wildly as she tried desperately to shake off the remnants of her sleep. Had she dreamed his presence? The tips of her fingers brushed against her cheek and could still feel the slightly swollen tissue. No….what had happened had been all too real. And if that were so, where was he?

Rising from the bed on shaky legs, she slowly made her way toward the door and placed her hand upon the knob. She stared at the piece of hardware for several seconds before slowly turning it, afraid of what she might find on the other side. Someone was out in the living room, and she was afraid that it wasn't who she desperately hoped that it would be. Leaning her head against the door for a few seconds, she gathered the strength to find the answers she sought, as she silently prayed that her worst dreams would not come true.

The door gradually opened and her view of the room ahead was revealed to her inch by inch. As the opening widened, a cold panic began to set in. Alicia and Christopher were sitting on the floor playing some sort of game, and she could clearly see Alex curled up on the couch watching the two with a smile on her face. If anyone else occupied the room, they were hidden from her view.

Laura entered the room so soundlessly that it took a few seconds for Alex to notice her. Pivoting her head to look at her friend, Alex commented, "Hey sleepy head! I thought you were going……" Her words trailed off as she caught sight of two things, Laura's obviously swollen cheek and the anguished look on her face as her eyes darted round the room.

Quickly rising from the couch, Alex approached Laura. Reaching out, she took the other woman's upper arms in her hands, and asked softly, "Laura? What is it? What happened?"

"Where is he?" she asked barely above a hoarse whisper.

Alex was both confused and frightened. "Where is who, Laura?" she asked in the same hushed tones, not liking the implications of the question one bit.

The question was more answer than Laura needed. Closing her eyes, she felt all of the energy and will drain from her body. _Not again….dear God, not again!! _

Alex saw Laura's legs give way and was barely able to maneuver her to a nearby chair before she collapsed entirely. Turning around quickly, she saw the concerned and frightened looks on the children's faces and knew that she had to do something and quickly. Pivoting once more, she was torn between helping her friend and shielding the children from what, she didn't know. Something terrible had happened in the time that she and the children had been gone. What that something was, she could only guess at. Deciding that the children needed to come first at this particular moment, she quickly moved toward them and ushered them out of the room and into the kitchen. Both were extremely reluctant to leave and peeked around her several times trying to figure out what was happening with their mother. 

Once Alex had the children away from Laura's view, she quickly reached for the phone and called for help. Jake had left less than fifteen minutes earlier, so she knew that he hadn't yet made it home. Dialing his cell, she hastily explained that she needed him to return as quickly as he could. Not wanting to go into graphic detail, she simply told him that Laura needed his help. 

Once the call had been placed, she sat down at one of the kitchen chairs and brought the children toward her. "Ummm……your mom isn't feeling well right now," she explained as simply as she could. "I need you to do me a big favor right now, OK? I need for the two of you to stay in here while I figure out what I need to do to help her. Can you do that for me?" she asked as brightly as she could, hoping to ease some of the tension that she felt coming from them.

"What's wrong with her?" Christopher asked, his eyes pleading and filled with worry as he unconsciously wrapped his arm around his little sister.

Forcing a smile to her face, Alex answered, "That's what I need to find out, sweetie. I'm sure she's just very tired, and probably didn't get enough sleep. So….will you stay in here with your sister?" Glancing around the room, she quickly added, "I'll bring some crayons and paper in here and the two of you can draw her a picture to make her feel better. How does that sound?" Not waiting for an answer, she quickly brushed by them and returned within seconds with what she had promised. Situating them both at the table, she smiled at both before returning to the living room.

She found Laura exactly where she'd left her. Now that the children were occupied, she could finally concentrate on what might have happened. Laura had said 'he'. _He who? _The bruise on her face led her to a myriad more questions. Had someone broken in while they were away? If so, had Laura been attacked? Why would the attacker have left the rest of the apartment untouched? A sick panic settled in her belly as she approached Laura once more. Instinctively she knew that whatever had happened, she wouldn't like….not one bit.

"Laura?" she called faintly as she settled herself on the edge of the coffee table in front of the chair. 

At first it seemed as if Laura didn't hear her. But just as she was about to reach out and gently rouse her, she saw her friend slowly open her eyes and turn her head toward her. The look in Laura's eyes sent shivers down her spine. Never in her life had she seen anyone so lost and despairing. 

"Laura…..can you tell me what happened?" she asked, knowing that she needed to get to the bottom of whatever had happened before she could find a way to help.

Many seconds ticked by before Laura finally answered. "He was here, Alex……he was here." The last part was spoken barely above a whisper, as if the effort required to do so was more than Laura could manage.

Confusion clouded Alex's face as she tried to fathom what Laura was telling her. _Who was here? Who would have……. _Suddenly her eyes flew open. She knew. "Oh dear God……." was all she was able to mutter. Frank had come to Chicago? He'd found Laura here, at her apartment? If so, where in God's name was he and what……

"Laura…….did he…….?" she was barely able to ask, as she hesitantly pointed to the blue marks on Laura's cheek, not wanting to believe that her friend would ever be capable of such an act.

Laura simply nodded in reply, a single tear tracing down the same swollen cheek. How could she possibly explain what happened? Yes, Frank had struck her, but in so many ways, he wasn't to blame. The effort required to detail what had happened was almost more than she could bear right now. It didn't matter. Explaining it all to Alex wouldn't change anything. In the end, after all stories were told, Frank would still be gone. 

Suddenly, Laura stirred from the chair and rose to her feet. Brushing off Alex's attempts to help her, she simply shook her head and turned away. She couldn't do this……not now. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was cognizant of the fact that the children were just in the other room, able to hear everything that was going on. She didn't want that. They'd already seen too much, been exposed to too much turmoil and heartache. She wouldn't burden them with anything further. Slowly she staggered away from her friend and sought out the solitude of the room that she had exited just minutes before. She barely heard Alex's questioning voice or her following footsteps, but simply shook her head once more, signifying that she needed no assistance. Once inside the room, she softly closed the door behind her and leaned against it's smooth surface, her eyes closing as she did so. 

What was she to do now? For weeks, she had prayed that he would come back to her. Now that he had, her heart and soul hurt more than she could have ever imagined. This was different. Before she worried about what could be happening as he went about his mission. This….this was something else entirely. Before he'd left her to fulfill his duty to the CIA. Now, he'd simply left…..he'd left _her_. The thought made her blood run cold. The thousand questions that she'd had before, multiplied. What had happened in the weeks that he was away? Why had he returned so quickly and obviously without having been through any sort of therapy or counseling? Why had he left once more, and more importantly……would he be return? The last question was what was tearing her apart. She'd thought that all she needed was to have him back with her and now that he had returned, she hadn't been enough to keep him here. Her love hadn't been enough to hold him.

Opening her weary eyes once more, she focused on something she hadn't seen when she'd awoken earlier. A piece of paper was lying on the bed. The side of the bed that Frank had occupied not so very long ago. With shaking hands and legs, she slowly made her way across the room, and finally willed herself to pick the sheet up and read what was written there. The note contained only two words and as she read them, she felt a seeping coldness fill her heart and mind. 

"I'm sorry" was all that it said. Sinking to her knees, Laura clutched the paper to her chest and broke down crying…..alone in the gathering darkness of the coming night.

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A/N: One more chapter to go! Thanks again for hanging in there. I hope the ending won't disappoint. :-0 


	23. Beginnings and endings

****

Broken Promises

Chapter Twenty three

December 21

The car slowed and finally parked by the curb, but Frank didn't immediately exit the vehicle. He simply stared with some trepidation and worry at the house before him. Would his presence be welcomed or scorned? He couldn't even pull into the driveway, as if doing so would have been too much of an intrusion. The truth was that he had no idea how the next few minutes or hours would go. So much had happened. And more importantly, perhaps too much time had passed.

Steeling his nerves, he finally opened the car door, and set what was to come in motion. Slowly he walked up the drive and approached the front door. Even if he'd had a key, he didn't think he would've been able to use it. The home was still in his name, but he most definitely didn't feel like he belonged. It had been a little over seven months since he had last stepped foot inside…..seven months since he'd walked out. The truth be told, he didn't know if he had any right to even feel as if he belonged here. Pausing a fraction of a second more, he finally reached out and knocked on the door. Stepping back, he waited to see what would happen.

Several seconds passed as Frank's anxiousness grew. Finally, he heard the deadbolt being twisted and then the door opened.

Laura's calm appearance belied the jumble of emotions and racing pulse that she tried desperately to mask. Instead of shock or excitement, her face was one of control and discipline. "Frank," she stated simply as if it was every day that she saw her long absent husband.

Laura's reaction, or should we say, lack of it, mystified and more than troubled him. He had expected a great many things when this particular moment played out in his head. An eerie calm had never been something that he'd ever considered. "Hello, Laura," he returned, trying to maintain the same tight control.

The two faced each other for what seemed like minutes, but in reality was only a matter of seconds. The awkwardness was as real as the biting winter wind that blew through the open doorway. Neither knew exactly what to say or even where to begin.

"May I…..come in?" Frank finally asked, more than a hint of hesitancy in his voice as he continued to eye Laura cautiously.

A chill passed through her as if she had just noticed the freezing temperature. With a slight smile, she stepped back and watched him pass through the entrance as he proceeded into the living room.

Once inside, Frank turned to look at his wife once more. Her face still held a look of restraint and calmness that worried Frank greatly. At this moment, he was fairly sure that he would have preferred a tirade to the eerie quiet. 

Laura crossed to one of the couches and sat down. She did so for two reasons. The first being that the two standing together in the room with nothing to say, unnerved her, and the second, she felt as if her legs were about to give out at any second. As she desperately tried to contain the chaos of feelings and emotions inside, something inside her refused to let Frank know how much his presence affected her.

Following her lead, he sat at the opposite end of the same couch, as the silence continued.

Clearing his throat, Frank finally spoke. "You….you look good," he told her quietly. 

Again she graced him with a slight smile. "So do you," she answered. She meant it too. Compared to the last time she had seen him, he had changed drastically. In Chicago, he had appeared to be physically exhausted, as if he'd pushed himself to his very limits. The man that sat before her now was healthy and well-rested. Only his eyes betrayed his anxiousness and unease. "How have you been?" she added, her voice cracking slightly as she asked.

Pausing before he spoke, Frank pondered what exactly to say at this point. Part of him wanted to rush through the explanation before she had a chance to throw him out, or at the very least, have second thoughts about allowing him entrance here. The other part wanted to take his time, making sure that he explained everything thoroughly. Somehow sensing that hurrying through it might be a mistake, he simply replied, "I've been all right."

Laura looked down at her hands clasped in front of her, and tried to calm herself. A thousand questions ran through her mind at one time. Squeezing her eyes shut, she desperately tried to get an emotional handle on everything that she was feeling. Willing away the uncertainty and pain, she suddenly looked up at the clock over the mantelpiece.

"I….I have to pick up the kids within the hour," she announced to him, as she scrambled to keep her composure. "Today's the last day of school before the Christmas break and they're getting out early."

"I know," he answered softly. "I asked my mother to pick them up this afternoon. I was hoping that we would have some time to talk before they got here."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, and a flicker of light emanated from her eyes. "You spoke to your mother?" She saw him carefully nod his head. "When was this?" she inquired, a definite edge to her voice.

"Just a couple of hours ago," he explained quickly. Sensing her anger, he quickly added, "I asked her to pick up the kids and then I told her that I was coming here to see you."

"I see," she answered quietly as she rose from the sofa and paced to the other side of the room before turning back to him. "I guess that explains why she didn't tell me that she'd heard from you." Her words may have sounded calm, but her eyes still blazed.

Not yet ready to delve into the matter hanging over their heads, she quickly changed the subject and asked, "Are you hungry? I was just about to fix myself something when you arrived." Without waiting for a reply, she turned and headed toward the kitchen. Frank watched her sudden departure and wasn't sure how to feel about her casualness. The two had not seen each other in almost seven months and yet she spoke to him as if he'd left only yesterday. Sighing, he rose from the couch and followed her.

Once he set foot in the kitchen, she asked, "Are sandwiches all right? I can fix you something else if you'd prefer."

"No….no….a sandwich is fine," he answered as he became more and more worried about the course of things.

Opening one of the cabinets above the counter, she began to retrieve the plates and glasses that she would need. "Could you get the things out of the refrigerator? There's ham and cheese and I think there may still be some roast beef left from dinner the other night," she informed him.

Without replying, he opened the door and gathered the food. As he did so, she caught sight of his actions out of the corner of her eye, and for some reason his movements bothered her. The simple act of opening the refrigerator unnerved her. Maybe it was the suggestion of normalcy….maybe it was the fact that she hadn't seen him perform such behavior in so long. Whatever the reason, she had to turn her head away in order to block out the scene. Mentally shaking herself, she turned toward the table and set out the things that they would need.

The two ate in relative silence, only occasionally glancing up at the other as they continued with their meal. As the minutes ticked by, Frank began to lose his appetite. Setting aside what was left of his sandwich, he pushed the plate away. The longer the anxiety continued, the more his stomach was tying itself into knots.

Laura looked up from her own plate and saw the wariness marking his features. Following suit, she also ended her meal and looked at him expectantly. Taking a long cleansing breath, she finally spoke, somehow knowing that he was waiting for her to begin. 

"There's so much I have to tell you," she explained in a quiet voice, willing herself to face the inevitable.

Nodding his head almost imperceptibly, he pivoted in his seat and took something out of the pocket of his jacket that he'd hung on the back of the kitchen chair. As he straightened in his seat, she could see that he held a few sheets of folded note paper. 

She didn't need to see what was actually on the paper. She knew. A little over a month ago, she had written down everything that she, Jake and Alex had been able to dig up about what happened to Frank during those few weeks he was in Florida, and later, Colombia. It hadn't been easy, and what they'd found out hadn't been much. Extracting information from the CIA was damned near impossible. And in the end, the only thing that had finally gained them a certain measure of access to certain files was the Company's respect for Frank and what he had done for them, then and in the past. Laura was also fairly sure that a modicum of guilt had loosened a few tongues as well, since the operation in Colombia had not gone at all as planned. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for what she had learned. The only problem after that was figuring out how to get the information to her husband. After writing everything down, she'd left the letter for him at the only place that she could think of, the one place that possibly still tied him to her and the children. She'd sealed the note and left it at Michael's grave. 

"I…..I…..wasn't sure that you'd found that," she explained to him quietly, her eyes unable to leave the paper in his hand. "I returned a week or so later and it was gone. I wasn't positive that a groundskeeper hadn't picked it up and thrown it away, thinking it was simply trash."

Frank unfolded the sheets and looked over the words that she'd written, just as he had a thousand times since first opening the envelope that he'd found at Michael's gravesite. The fingertips of his right hand lightly skimmed the page. The letter had meant more to him than he could ever possibly explain to her. First and foremost, it meant that he was still in her thoughts, a blessing that he'd prayed for every day. And second, the information contained there had done wonders in helping him purge his conscience. Even the little that she and the others had been able to find out had been nothing short of miraculous. Although he would never be able to forgive himself for a great many things, knowing that he had not been the one to end Nina's life had made all the difference in the world. According to CIA records, Nina was killed by Steven Varner, the man who had been brought in to help in Frank's training. Apparently after she had been "used" the night of Frank's transformation, she had become frightened and had attempted to flee. Varner had caught her, shooting her in the back as she tried to run away. Even now, no one knew exactly where Varner was. At least no one was talking. 

Also contained in the letter were references made to some notes that Marsh had left about the mission and the people involved. Although only a few paragraphs long, it gave enough of an indication of who the players were and what they're specific duties were. Frank, of course, was meant to get as close as possible to Jimenez and garner any and all relevant information about his operation. Lucia was the go-between. She was meant to keep in contact with Marsh and to ply any information she could from Frank while he was still undercover. On one point, Marsh was very clear. She was not to sleep with Frank at any point in their mission. She was only to make him believe that they had indeed been 'intimate' in order to maintain her cover as his lover. How she accomplished that was up to her, but the message was still clear - don't compromise the man's other commitments, namely his marriage. 

Even as Frank once again skimmed the contents of the page, he still couldn't help but feel guilty over what had happened while he was undercover. He may not have physically taken Lucia, but he had wanted to. And then there was the woman he had spent time with at Juan's estate. Although it may not have been cheating in the purest sense, he still knew that he had betrayed Laura, and for that alone, he questioned whether he could ever actually forgive himself. He'd thought through the position he was in very carefully. Should he tell Laura everything that had happened during the mission? On one hand, he knew that, on some level, she would understand and not hold him responsible for his actions. On the other hand, she was his wife, and he knew that the information would hurt her deeply. He'd had months to think over the pros and cons and decided in the end that telling her everything would only help to alleviate his own conscience while hurting her even more in the process. 

Laura watched Frank cautiously as he looked over the letter once more. For a few seconds, he seemed to be lost in another world. The emotions that played across his face had been subtle. Anyone else might not have caught the changes, but she did. She had only been able to guess at what the information in the letter would do for him. Now, as she sat across the table from him, she knew that she had done the right thing in getting it to him as soon as possible. One thing bothered her though.

"How long have you been back in Virginia?" she asked softly as she intently watched him.

Frank's eyes raised from the paper in his hands and looked deeply into Laura's eyes. He'd hoped to avoid this topic for at least awhile longer. Talking a calming breath, he hesitantly forged ahead. "Awhile," he answered cryptically.

Rising from her chair, Laura slowly walked away from Frank. With her back to him, staring at the wall above the sink, she asked once more, "How long?" Gripping the edge of the counter, she waited for his response.

No longer able to avoid the inevitable, he bowed his head and answered, "A little over 3 months."

Laura would have been hard pressed to explain the feelings welling up inside of her at that moment. The first thing she felt was definitely disbelief, followed closely by anger and then hurt. As she steadied herself against the counter, her knuckles turning white from the strength of her grip on its edge, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. "Tell me…..in those three months……did it ever occur to you to let me know that you were alright?" she inquired, the tight control of her voice breaking slightly as she strained to remain calm. Turning then, she faced him. She wanted not only an answer, she wanted to see his eyes when he gave her that answer.

Frank had known that seeing her again after so long wasn't going to be easy. He thought that he'd prepared himself for any eventuality. The time spent meant nothing as he saw the hurt and anger in Laura's eyes. At first he was at a loss for words, as he knew that nothing he would say at this moment would help. As the seconds ticked by, he noticed her eyes fill with tears, and in return, he felt his heart break once more. He knew what he had to say was unavoidable. He would hurt her once more.

"No……" he told her quietly, adding, "I had other things to think about."

"Forget about the other months, Frank, where you were God only knows where. In the three months that you were in the same state with us, never once did you think about your wife and children! Is that what you're telling me?" she asked him, the hurt and pain seeping into the words she hurled at him.

"I didn't say that I didn't think about you. I thought of you every damn day," he answered back, his voice as raw as his emotions. "That's why I came back here. _You're_ the reason that I'm here. _You're _the reason that I came back."

Shaking her head almost violently, Laura tried to will away the feelings threatening to overcome her. "I don't understand. You thought of us, but you didn't think it was important to let us know what was happening with you?" She turned then and began pacing back and forth through the kitchen, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "I had no idea where you were, Frank. Do you get that?? I didn't know if you were alive….dead…..hurt….back in Colombia or someplace else! _THAT'S_ what I've lived with for the past 7 months! So don't sit there and expect me to understand that even though you thought of us every day, not once did you think it was important enough to let us at least know that you were alright!" she yelled, her voice breaking, as she tried desperately to hold back the sob that she just barely managed to keep at bay.

She was right. He knew that. In her shoes, he would have felt just as abandoned…..just as betrayed. He searched his soul for the words that would help to alleviate that, and found nothing. Sighing in frustration, he told her the only thing that came to mind. "Laura," he started as calmly as he could, "I wish that I could tell you what you want to hear. The truth is that for the last 3 months I've been going through therapy, trying to conquer the demons inside of me…..trying to put the pieces of my life back together."

At first she didn't hear his words. Instead she continued to pace like a caged tiger, holding on to the hurt that his earlier words had inflicted. But slowly what he had said began to sink in. Finally, she slowed and turned toward him once more. The pain was still there, but she'd registered what he'd said just the same. "You were in therapy?" she asked as she absently brushed away the single tear that escaped her eyes.

Frank simply nodded his head, unable to speak at the moment.

She continued to stare at him as she chewed on her bottom lip, contemplating the importance of his words. "And where was this?" she asked at last.

Again, without thinking of the implications, he answered, "At headquarters."

Laura inhaled sharply and turned from him once more. Almost imperceptibly she shook her head as she resumed the death grip she'd had on the edge of the counter. She began to speak then, at first to herself and then with more force as the realization continued to sink in. "All of this time…….all of the visits. They meant nothing, didn't they? How many times did I ask for information? How many people did I ask for help? And all this time……all this time, they knew where you were." She turned then to stare at him, a blaze of anger and resentment in her eyes. "God damn it, Frank! Did everyone think this was some sort of game? Did they think it would be amusing to see me begging for information?" She saw him open his mouth, but she held up her hands and shook her head furiously. "Don't! I can't take this anymore! I…..I just can't." With that, she turned quickly and marched out of the room. Seconds later, he could hear their bedroom door slam shut. 

Frank watched helplessly as his wife exited the room. He was paralyzed….riveted to the spot. He should have known how she would react to what he had to tell her. It all made perfect sense now. How did he _think_ she obtained the information that she had passed on to him? It could have only come from CIA headquarters, and if that were the case, they should have told her where he was. Why they kept that from her, he could only guess. 

There was something else though, something that chilled him to the bone. As he'd witnessed her torture and agony, he'd noticed one other thing. While she paced, she had clutched the necklace that she always wore. A nervous habit that she'd had ever since he'd known her. Only when she'd turned toward him for the last time did he notice something that he hadn't earlier. There was nothing on the chain. And more than that, she was no longer wearing her own wedding ring. Ever since his first mission away from her all of those years ago, she'd always worn his wedding band on that chain, keeping it safe for him until his return. Now there was no ring, and her own was absent as well. While the implications of what that all meant began to sink in, the winter sun began to head for the horizon, and with it went Frank's hopes that things might work out in the end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laura awoke some time later. In the dim light of the bedroom, she couldn't tell what time it was. Pulling herself up off the bed, she rubbed her tired, swollen eyes and tried to remember the events of the last few hours. As the remnants of sleep continued to seep away, she recalled all too well where she was and why she was there. 

After leaving Frank in the kitchen, she'd locked herself in the bedroom and had an old-fashioned breakdown. Walking toward the farthest corner of the room, she put her back to the wall and proceed to collapse in the corner as her emotions overtook her. She didn't care if Frank heard her. In fact, she didn't care if the whole world heard her anguish. All of the feelings that she had so carefully kept inside of her came pouring out as she allowed herself to wallow in the pain, anguish and betrayal. Not since the day Frank had abandoned her in Chicago had she allowed herself such an emotional release. And as the sobs wracked her body, she relived all of it, the separation, the pain, and the loneliness. At some point, she'd crawled over to the bed and had somehow levered her weary body up onto the mattress. Some time later, she'd finally succumbed to her emotional exhaustion.

After turning on the bedside lamp, she could at last see the clock. Almost five hours had passed since she'd sequestered herself. Combing her fingers through her tousled hair, she rose from the bed and approached the door. She paused once there, her hand on the knob. What if he'd left? A chill passed through her as she pondered the question. In some way, she wouldn't have blamed him if he had. She'd hardly been welcoming. And as the hours had drug on, she could tell by his reactions that he was puzzled by her behavior. Part of her had very much wanted to throw herself into his arms and never let go. But the part that felt hurt by his abandonment wouldn't allow it. Somewhere deep down inside, she wanted him to hurt as much as he had hurt her.

She'd fully expected for the two of them to hash out everything and finally give in to the love that she knew they both still held for each other. What she hadn't been prepared for was the unexpected - he'd been in Virginia….the CIA had known about it, and no one had even bothered to tell her. 

As she rolled the words around in her head, she tried desperately to keep the rising anger under control. The truth be told, she was too tired to deal with any of it. Right now, the only thing that concerned her was whether her husband still waited somewhere outside this door. Talking a deep calming breath, she finally opened the door and ventured out. 

At first the stillness of the house unnerved her. As she took each step, the anxiety grew exponentially. When she finally reached the living room, a pent up breath escaped her as the dread of what might have been, slipped away. He was lying on one of the couches, a pillow or two supporting his head, a forearm thrown across his eyes. As she stood in the archway between the hall and the living room, she watched him for a second or two, unsure if he'd heard her approach or not. After a second or two more, he must have finally sensed her presence. Lowering his arm, he turned toward her and straightened in his seat. The look she saw in his eyes was almost her undoing. Regret……pain……pleading. It took everything she had to make herself stay where she was.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, almost as if her were afraid to disturb the stillness of the evening.

Laura stared at him a heartbeat longer, before nodding her head. She wanted to go to him. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her that everything was going to be alright, but she couldn't. So much still needed to be said. And until the time came for that, she couldn't allow it.

"Frank……I know that we have so much more to talk about, but……" she stopped, searching for the right words.

"But not tonight?" he finished for her. A small smile graced her lips as she nodded in reply.

"I'm sorry. I'm….…I'm just too tired right now."

Frank nodded sadly, as he looked down at his hands clasped in front of him. He did understand. As much as he wanted to get all of it over with, he knew that it wasn't going to be that easy. That, at least, he had been right about. What needed to be done was going to take time. 

As she eyed him, she felt another surge of anger bubble up from within her. Suddenly feeling the need to lash out, she asked, "So…..shall I say goodbye to you now? After all, the last two times we were together, you snuck away as soon as I went to sleep." The words were delivered with surgical accuracy and a sarcastic tone, and judging by the look on his shocked face, she'd hit the mark dead on.

He knew she was still hurting, and for that alone, he bit his tongue. At least for a moment. As he looked at her, her arms crossed defensively, a look of defiance on her face, he just couldn't let it go.

"OK, I guess I deserve that. You're hurt. I get that, even if you think I don't. And maybe I have no right at all to say this, but please…..drop the sarcasm. Having both of us angry isn't going to solve anything."

She opened her mouth to respond, but the biting reply she wanted to throw back at him, died away. He was right. She wanted to hurt him, plain and simple. Lashing out was a reflex, one honed by years of being together. She took a trembling breath, and nodded her agreement. 

Again, fighting to work past an awkward moment, she quickly changed the subject. "Where would you like to sleep tonight? That is, I'm assuming that you'll want to stay here."

"If it's not too much trouble, I could just sleep out here."

"Are you sure? You could take Christopher's bed, since the kids are obviously staying at your mother's tonight."

"No…..the couch is fine."

Laura nodded and then moved down the hall to the linen closet. She returned a minute later with a pillow and blanket for him. 

Laura graced him with a brief smile after placing the items next to him. As she walked away, Frank said quietly, "Laura…….I'm so sorry."

She froze for a moment, unable to look at him. The anguish she heard in his voice almost brought her to her knees. She knew that he meant it, and that's what tore at her soul. She turned back to look at him, and answered, barely above a whisper, "I know." Tears rimmed her eyes as she looked at him for a second longer. Then she turned and headed toward the bedroom once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later, Laura still couldn't fall asleep. Maybe the hours that she'd slept earlier were the cause. She turned over and attempted once more to get comfortable. After several more minutes, she sighed in aggravation, and sat up. It was no use. She couldn't sleep. No matter what she had tried, she kept replaying the events of the last 12 hours over and over in her head. What should she have said? How should she have handled it? Should she have let him tell her everything right then and there? The bottom line……the what ifs and the what should have beens were driving her crazy. And on top of that, a nagging thought kept creeping into her brain. 

What if he'd left once again?

She tried to rationalize it away, but it was no use. She'd tried to convince herself that if he had wanted to leave, he'd had more than ample opportunity that afternoon. But instead, he had stayed. Stayed and waited to face her once again. But still the doubt gnawed away at her. Finally, knowing that she shouldn't, but unable to stop herself, she threw the covers off and approached the closed bedroom door. She just had to know.

Opening the door as quietly as possible, she crept down the hall and peered into the living room. Even in the dark, she could clearly see his sleeping form sprawled on the couch. For a second or two, she contemplated waking him. What still was between them was breaking her heart, and she desperately wanted it over and done with. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the door frame and sighed almost inaudibly. What she wouldn't give to have her life back, the life that she'd had before the CIA had come calling once more. Bitterness filled her heart as she contemplated what they had stolen from her, something she desperately prayed that she could get back someday. As she opened her eyes once more, she suddenly felt a chill race up her spine. What if it was too late? What if too much had happened? With that agonizing thought, she turned and headed back down the hall.

Frank waited until he heard the bedroom door close once more before opening his eyes. Laura wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep. For hours he'd floated in and out of consciousness, the events of the day plaguing him as well. He'd thought that he'd been prepared. He'd been wrong. He wondered for a second why she'd come to the living room. It didn't take long for him to figure it out though. She'd wanted to make sure that he was still there. In the dark of the night, he sighed sadly, and attempted once more to fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning was almost as awkward as the night before. They ate breakfast together, but few words passed between them. After more than a few minutes of silence, however, Frank could tell that Laura had something on her mind, something that worried her.

"What is it?" he finally asked.

"What?" she asked, startled by the question.

"You've got something on your mind. I can see it. Tell me what it is."

Laura looked at him a moment or two longer before looking down at the table top once more, her hands splayed out on its surface. She did indeed have something on her mind. How to bring up the subject was what bothered her. Breathing in deeply, she sought to begin. "I don't know how to say this. After last night……" She shook her head sadly. "I don't want it to be like that again."

Frank's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what she was getting at. "What do you mean? You don't want what to be like that again?"

Refusing to look up at him, she forged ahead. "I don't want to say this to hurt you," she tried to explain. "I just can't take any chances." Looking up finally, she saw the confusion in his eyes. She was beating around the bush, and she knew that. Closing her eyes for a moment, she finally continued. "I want you to do me a favor. If……if you plan on leaving again, I want you to go now." 

"What?" he asked, unnerved, confused, and troubled. Was she asking him to leave? A cold feeling in the pit of his stomach began to seep throughout his body.

Taking another calming breath, she continued on. "I'm going to pick up the kids this morning," she explained. "If you have any plans at all about leaving in the future, I wish you'd do it now……before they get home," she told him, her voice trembling.

Now he understood. She was trying to protect the children from more heartache. It killed him to think that she would even consider that he would be so cruel. But then…….he'd hardly given her reason to think otherwise. He saw even now, how she fought to keep herself from crying. What words could he possibly offer her that she would believe? What could he say that would put her mind at ease.

"Laura…….I know you have no reason at all to believe this, but I swear to you, there is only one way that I'll ever leave again."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "What way is that?" she asked cautiously.

"The only way I'll leave is if you ask me to go," he told her truthfully. 

Laura stared deeply into his eyes and tried to read what she saw there. He seemed to be telling her the truth. Barely above a whisper, she told him, "You have no idea how much I want to believe that." As she spoke, the tears she could no longer hide rolled gently down her cheeks.

Unconsciously, Frank reached for her hands which were still on the table in front of her. He needed to touch her. Since the moment he walked back into the house, she'd physically kept her distance from him and it was killing him. Even in the simple gesture of holding her hand, he wanted to comfort her…..to reassure her. For a moment she allowed the contact, but then briskly pulled her hands back as though the feel of his hands clasping hers had caused her pain. A confused look passed over her face for a moment, and then was gone. Quickly she regained her composure and stood. 

"I'll get ready to go get the children," she announced to him as though the previous conversation had never happened. Suddenly she turned and headed toward the bedroom, and a second or two later, Frank could hear the rustling of her car keys.

Sighing in frustration, Frank could have sworn for a split second that he was finally breaking through the barrier that separated them. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he'd pushed too hard. He had no more time to think it through as she appeared in the doorway once more. With one more look, she headed toward the front door.

Frank followed her, and watched silently as she retrieved her coat from the closet and shrugged into it. Once done, she stopped in front of the door, her hand on the knob.

"I want you to understand something, Frank," she began, her head bowed, her back still to him. "If you break their hearts again…….I swear…….I'll never forgive you." With that, she turned back to him, her eyes once more brimming with tears. "Do you understand me? Never…..I'll never forgive you."

A thousand thoughts flooded through his head at that moment. Things like how much he had hurt her……how this once caring, affectionate woman was now guarded and suspicious……how would the kids react once they saw him again…….would their reaction be the same? But mostly, he thought about how this was the ultimate crossroads in their lives together. If he betrayed them all again, he would lose everything. Unable to think of anything else to say in the few seconds they had before she left, he simply told her, "I understand."

She paused a few heartbeats longer, memorizing everything about him in the few moments that she had. Committing what she saw to memory. She'd just given him an ultimatum, and with that came the chance that she might never see him again. Then, without another word, she opened the door and left, left before she gave in to the compulsion of throwing herself into his arms and begging him to stay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour and a half later, Laura pulled up to their house, barely aware of the drive home. For the time that it took them to make their way here, her mind had been elsewhere, her thoughts and feelings a jumbled mess. But mostly, she was anxious. Would he still be there when they returned? And most importantly, could she trust that he wouldn't hurt them again? 

The children chattered about this and that the whole way, oblivious to their mother's scattered attention. Little did they know what awaited them once they arrived. That is, if Frank had decided to stay.

Pulling on to their side street, Laura could instantly see that the car he had arrived in was still parked across from their house. He was still there. She wasn't sure how to feel about that. Scared? Happy? Maybe a little of both. After a moment or two more, she had to admit to herself that she was more elated than apprehensive.

Once parked, the children quickly scrambled out of their seats and headed toward the door. Once inside, Laura made quick work of their coats and hats, while the two continued to tell her about their stay at grandma's. Seeing movement in the doorway opposite, Laura looked up and saw Frank standing there anxiously. She gave him a brief smile, before she addressed the children.

"I have a surprise for you," she told them.

With Christmas just days away, the two were bubbling over with excitement, trying to guess what their surprise might be. Without another word, she simply smiled and pointed. Both turned at the same time, and froze.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment or two as the shock settled in. It was Alicia who first got over her amazement, and hurled herself at Frank as fast as her feet could carry her. Launching herself into his arms, she threw her small arms around his neck and held on for dear life, her head buried in the crook of his neck and shoulder. 

Frank held onto his daughter with all of his might. His little girl……his precious little angel. For a brief second he remembered the drawing that she had given him to keep, the one that had been the catalyst in helping him to remember who he really was. A brief wave of sorrow crossed his face when he remembered that he had left the prized drawing in what remained of Juan's mansion. The moment was fleeting, and all he could do was hold her more closely to him. 

Christopher still remained where he was, at his mother's side. Although she couldn't see the look on his face, Laura knew that there was a battle waging within her son. She could almost sense how much he wanted to follow his sister's lead, but something held him back. After a second or two, he looked up at her, and she could see the unspoken question in his eyes. Caressing his cheek in reassurance, Laura gave him a smile and said, "It's OK." The two words seemed to release him, as he looked away and walked toward his father.

By this time, Frank was now kneeling on the floor, Alicia still snuggly held within his embrace. But his eyes followed his son's progress across the floor. Christopher halted a step or two away, his eyes locked on his father's face. However, as Frank extended his hand toward his son, silently beckoning him to give in, Christopher's remaining resolve crumbled, the boy's lower lip began to tremble. Seconds later, he too was hugging his father for all he was worth. 

Laura watched the scene from across the room, tears steadily streaming down her face. She watched with a sense of detached awe. Almost as if she was not really in the room with the others at all. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wasn't even aware of how the gesture mimicked what she saw before her. A part of her wanted to join them, to allow herself to finally give in, but the part that feared losing everything yet again, won this particular battle. Still, she stood apart.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze as far as Laura was concerned. She felt almost as if she continued to be an observer, not really joining in with what happened around her. After the tearful reunion, both children couldn't get enough of Frank's attention. Both pulling him this way and that as they filled him in on what he had missed. Frank, of course, was more than willing to oblige. From time to time, however, he would catch Laura's eye and frown slightly at what he saw. The look on her face could only be described as……bittersweet, a sad smile gracing her lips. After a brief moment, her eyes would dart away, almost as if she didn't want him to see what she was thinking or feeling. 

So it went the next couple of days. The children's excitement at having their father finally home was overwhelming, their every waking moment spent with him. And still, Laura stood in the background, observing it all but not participating. And with each passing hour, Frank's worry grew. He'd hoped that once the children accepted him back in their lives, that Laura too would start to soften. But after a few days back at home, things seemed no better. In fact, in some ways, they appeared to be worse. If possible, she seemed to be pulling farther and farther away from him. And when he thought of that, he thought again of the absence of the wedding band on her finger. 

Christmas morning too came and went. Frank surprised all three with presents on top of what the children received from Laura. Hours were spent in play. And on Christmas day, the four ventured over to Frank's mother's house and another reunion took place, adding to the festive atmosphere of the day. And through it all, Laura still remained on the periphery, smiling often, but with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

As the week continued, the four settled into a more normal routine. The newness of Frank's return began to wear off and the children even seemed content to leave him alone for a time here and there. And with that, Frank began to make plans.

On New Year's Eve, unbeknownst to Laura, Frank had arranged for the children to spend the night at their grandmother's. When he announced that he would take them there that afternoon, Laura appeared to be a bit dismayed, telling him that they should all see the New Year in together, but he would hear none of it. And without another word to her, he bundled the children up, gathered their things and ushered them out of the house and to their waiting car. After securing them inside, he turned back toward the house, only to see Laura standing on the front porch obviously shivering in the cold with a distressed and anguished look on her face. He almost went back to her, but thought that he'd deal with it all better once the children were out of the house. With a small wave of goodbye, he settled into the car and drove off.

A couple of hours later, he returned to a quiet house. A glimmer of a smile crossed his lips thinking how different it was when the children weren't around. After hanging up his coat, he went in search of his wife. 

He found her in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, almost as if her hands were chilled and needed to be warmed. Sitting opposite her at the table, he looked at her expectantly. When a few minutes ticked by, and nothing was said, Frank sighed sadly, knowing that the next few hours weren't going to be easy.

"Talk to me," he softly commanded, pausing a second or so before adding, "Please."

A bittersweet smile graced her lips when she looked up at him. The same smile he'd seen on her face for the past week. "What would you have me say?" she asked just as quietly.

Shaking his head, he replied, "I don't know. Anything……everything. Tell me what you're feeling. Tell me what you were thinking when you stood on the porch as I drove away with the children." Clasping his hands in front of him, he added, "Tell me how to make it right." 

Laura could sense the frustration in everything he did. His voice, his words, his tone, his eyes, his face, his mannerisms all spoke volumes. She knew that he was trying to mend what was between them. And silently, she wished the same. But again, part of her held back……part of her just couldn't let go of the hurt.

"I know that you're trying to make things better," she told him truthfully. Shaking her head sadly, she continued, "I'm just not sure if I'm ready to do that yet."

Bowing his head, he let out a pent up breath, his frustration even manifesting itself in the way he breathed. "I understand that this hasn't been easy for you."

She interrupted him then, before he could continue. "You think you understand," she told him, not as a question, but as a statement. "Do you really want to know what I was thinking when I saw you drive away? Do you really want to know?" she challenged.

Frank stared at her, seeing a myriad of emotions bubble up behind her eyes. But before he could answer, she continued, "I saw you put the children in the car, and I wondered…….I started to panic, Frank……..I wondered if you were leaving again and taking our children with you this time," she told him as a sob escaped her lips. Standing quickly, she once again moved away from him. 

He watched her as she stood with her back to him, her body trembling from the strength of emotions coursing through her. The words she'd said hit him like a full-force blow to his gut. Knowing that this was what she feared and knowing that he was the cause was almost more than he could stand. Hesitantly, he stood and approached her. Reaching out his hand, he wanted to comfort her, but he hesitated, not knowing how she would react if he touched her. His hand hung in mid-air a second longer before returning to his side. Not for the first time in the week or so he had been back did he think that maybe his actions had caused too much damage. He knew he could never truly forgive himself, perhaps Laura couldn't forgive him either. Many seconds more passed before he decided that he had to give it at least one more try.

"Laura……please look at me," he nearly begged. At first he thought that either she hadn't heard him or was ignoring him, but slowly she turned and faced him. The look in her eyes was his undoing. Without another thought, he brought his hands to her face and brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how long she would allow him to touch her like this. Any other attempt that he'd made to get close to her had been rebuffed. But no, at this moment, all he could think of was comforting her, trying to take away some of the pain he had caused. 

"I'm so sorry," he half whispered to her as his own tears stung the backs of his eyes and threatened to fall.

The two stood like that for several moments, neither giving more nor refusing what was offered, just staring into the depths of their troubled souls. Sustained by her seeming acceptance of his touch, he decided to push on as he gathered her into his arms and held her to him. The elation over her acceptance of this diminished when he realized that although she wasn't rejecting his gesture, she wasn't holding him in return either. At first he didn't know quite what to think of this semi-breakthrough. Should he be thankful for what she had allowed him thus far, or should he be disturbed by the lack of reaction? He really wasn't sure. Yet again, he thought of the wedding band that she no longer wore. This time, he couldn't let the thought pass by.

As he still held her unresponsive body in his arms, he quietly asked, "Laura…..where is your wedding ring?"

Her body stiffened slightly when he asked the question, but she didn't immediately pull away. Eventually, however, she extricated herself from his embrace and looked at him with sad, soulful eyes. Surprising him then, she took his hand and led him into their bedroom. Once there she released him and approached her bedside table. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she simply stared at the framed photograph that sat there. He knew what picture it was without even having to look. It was their wedding photo. She'd kept it on the nightstand for as long as he could remember. Why she was staring at it now, he could only guess. But just then, she reached forward and picked something up off of the table, something that had been placed in front of the picture. Moving beside her, he sat down and stared at what she had clenched in in her fist. Once she had his attention, she opened her hand and revealed what was there. Their two wedding bands tied together with a piece of ribbon.

Without waiting for him to ask, she explained. "After we left Chicago, I struggled to find some way of coping with what happened. Just when I thought I was making headway, I would feel the weight of your ring on the necklace around my neck, or I'd glance down and see my own ring. Every time that happened, it would bring it all back. I can't even tell you how many times I had to make some excuse to the children so that I could duck into another room and try to pull myself together. After awhile, I knew that I had to do something. So I took both of our rings and placed them here. Here I could deal with it. After the day was through, I could close the door behind me and let all of those feelings out, all of the emotions that I wouldn't allow myself the rest of the day. Only here….only in this room would I let myself think about you……worry about you……wonder what I'd done wrong." 

Frank had been listening intently to what she was explaining to him, but the last words out of her mouth hit him like a bolt of electricity. His head pivoted so that he could look at her. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. What **_she_** had done wrong? "What _you_ did wrong?" he asked in disbelief, sure he had misunderstood. She just sadly nodded her head in reply, he attention still drawn by the framed photograph. 

"Laura……_you_ didn't do anything wrong," he told her, still stunned by her words.

A dry chuckle escaped her lips. "Then why didn't you stay? It was obvious that I wasn't enough to keep you there," she explained to him, her voice breaking as the tears threatened once more.

If Frank was stunned before, he was even more so now. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. All this time, she thought that he'd left because……..because she thought that he hadn't loved her enough to stay?? He moved then, moved so that he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, forcing her to look at him. 

"Laura……my God……you did nothing wrong. I left because I was afraid that I would hurt you again. I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed. Do you have any idea how I felt when I looked at your face and saw the damage that I'd caused. **_I_** caused, Laura! Not some nameless person……._me_…..I did it. No matter what psychological reason, I'm the one who hit you!" Taking her hands in his, he pressed on, intent on airing everything that he'd held inside, once and for all. "You should hate me for that, not somehow blame yourself. All of it, Laura……all of it is my fault. No one else's. After I left that day, I just kept running. Town to town, city to city, state to state. It didn't matter where I went, and honestly there were times when I didn't remember how I got to where I was. When that would happen, it only made me realize even more how much I needed help. But through it all, all I could think of was how I had hurt you……broken so many promises that I'd made to you. So many nights I fell asleep with the image of your bruised face in my head, hoping and praying that some day you could find some way to forgive me. But if you can't find it in your heart to do that, I'll understand. It'll kill me, but I'll understand. But for God's sake Laura, there's no way you can blame yourself for what happened. You're the reason I'm here. You're the reason I came back. You're the reason…….." he paused for a second, wondering if he should tell her everything. Looking into her tear stained face, he took a deep breath and continued. "You…..you're the reason that I'm still alive." She shook her head, not sure what to make of his last statement. 

Squeezing her hands once more, he rose from his place on the floor, and approached the mirror which hung on the wall above the set of drawers. "Didn't you wonder why the mirror was broken?" he asked as he turned back toward her. She simply nodded, transfixed by what he was telling her. "I came back here…..after I returned from Colombia. I needed to see you. I needed to find you, but all I found was an empty house. At first, I thought that you'd left me, that you'd taken the kids and left me. I felt empty……desperate. I walked over to the mirror and stared at my own reflection, feeling the battle waging within me as to who was in control. I hated what I'd done in Colombia. I hated the person they turned me into. And as I stared into the mirror, all I could see was _him. _The part of me that I never wanted to see again. I have no idea how long I stood there. But slowly, an idea came to me. There was only one way to make the other half of me disappear. I reached behind me and pulled out the gun I had brought with me. I raised the gun, and pointed it at my temple. And as I prepared to pull the trigger, something suddenly became clear to me. _I_ didn't want to die. _I_ came here to find my wife and children. _I_ had things to live for………._he_ didn't. _He _wanted to destroy everything. _He _wanted me to pay for taking him away from his life once more." He paused to see the significance of his words sink in as she absorbed it all, her eyes wide with both fear and shock. 

"I became angry then. Angry that I'd almost let him win. Taking my finger off of the trigger, I reared back and smashed the mirror with the handle of the gun. I wanted him gone, and in that moment, the mirror represented the only visible part of me that I could only feel seething within me. After that, I left as quickly as possible, remembering suddenly where you would be and hoping that I could reach you as soon as possible. I thought that I was in control again, or I would have never come looking for you at that point." Turning from her then, he hung his head and shook his head sadly, his next words barely above a whisper, "I should have known better. I should have waited………if only I'd waited. I wouldn't have hurt you…..again."

Laura still sat on the edge of the bed, her head pounding with everything that he'd just told her. Suddenly the thought of how close she had come to losing him forever overwhelmed her. Without thinking, she rose and approached him, stopping only when she was directly in front of him. Letting pure instinct dictate her actions, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his body against hers. At this moment, she needed desperately to feel his warmth……to feel his chest as it filled with air……to feel his heartbeat as she held him tight. She needed to feel him, alive and well and in her arms once again.

For a stunned second, Frank couldn't believe what was happening, but quickly responded, pulling her body even more tightly against his own, his face buried in the crook of her neck as he inhaled deeply, languishing in every sensation she brought to him as he held her.

Minutes passed and still the two clung to each other, almost as if each was afraid to let go, afraid that the moment wasn't real or that it would soon fade away. After a time, however, their desperation ebbed and was soon replaced by gentle touches and caresses. After a time, Laura pulled back slightly and looked at Frank, studying his features almost as if she hadn't seen him in a very long time. She wanted to memorize the moment, she wanted to remember every detail. She wanted something else as well. Tilting her face to his, she brought her hand gently to the side of his face and guided him to her waiting lips. Sighing softly, the two melted into the gentle, healing kiss. Not since he'd left to go on this mission had they shared something as simple as a kiss. Not even in Chicago, having only held each other desperately as they lay together on the bed. 

Without another spoken word, the two moved toward the bed. Their eyes said everything, two souls connecting as they hadn't in a very long time. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Laura woke to a warm, peaceful feeling that she always associated with her husband. Snuggling herself more fully into his embrace, she was rewarded with a contented sigh and his arms tightening around her. Smiling to herself, she absently ran her fingertips across his bare torso. She felt as if she were drowning in his warmth and the love she felt seeping from his every pore. Sighing herself, she was fairly sure that this was what heaven must feel like.

Frank had been awake for awhile, his mind replaying the events of the evening. He had only hoped that it would end up as it had, not truly believing that it would. He knew that they still had a lot to go through, but now, he had no doubt as to whether they could make it work. He felt Laura stir in his arms. A smile turned the corners of his mouth as he held her closer still. With his wife back in his arms, everything was as it should be…….almost.

He reached for the hand that was stroking his chest and held it in his own, his fingers caressing each of her own. When he got to the third finger, he stopped. Not having her ring there felt wrong. 

Reaching toward the nightstand, he retrieved their rings so neatly joined with a ribbon. Laura raised her head then and looked at him intently, her eyes filled with nothing but love. She too knew that they still had a long road ahead of them, but she had no doubt at all that they would face what was to come together. 

Untying the bundle, Frank took her ring and placed it on the end of her third finger, waiting for her to either accept or reject what he was offering. Laura's bright smile was all of the answer that he needed. As she extended her hand more fully, he slipped the ring on her finger, brushing it affectionately with his own, before raising her hand to his lips and kissing her open palm.

Maneuvering herself into more of a sitting position, she took his wedding band from his hand, and her eyes asked the same of him. Offering his left hand to her, she in turn slipped the ring on his finger. Once done, she clasped his hand in hers as she held it to her heart. Once done, the two settled once more into each other's warm embrace, again drowning in their newly rediscovered love. 

A short while later, the stillness of the night was disturbed by some nearby fireworks, the echo bouncing off of the nearby houses as the glare briefly lit up the dark bedroom. The New Year was being heralded in by the community around them. But in this one darkened bedroom, a different kind of rebirth was being celebrated. With the New Year came hope of better things to come, and thankfulness for the blessings already received. Tonight had been one such blessing. 

"Happy New Year," Frank whispered quietly to his now sleeping wife. And as the night quieted once more, the revelers all abandoning the cold outdoors, he made himself one last promise before succumbing to the quiet night. He swore by everything that he held dear, that he would do everything in his power to restore Laura's faith in him. Tonight they had taken a monumental step forward, but so much more needed to be dealt with, dealt with and healed. 

This one last promise, he vowed never to break.

~*~*~*~

****

The End

A/N My sincerest thanks to all of the readers who have stuck with this story from its beginning nearly a year ago (!). For awhile it was quite a struggle to keep this going. I thank you all for your patience, and an extra special thanks to all who have left feedback for me over these long months. I truly, truly appreciate your kind and thoughtful words of encouragement! J 


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